


Alone

by RaeBright



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adult Dipper Pines, Alpha Dipper Pines, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Blood and Gore, Deaf!Bill, Derogatory Biker Slang, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Omega Bill Cipher, Pyronica is a dog, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 12:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 89,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeBright/pseuds/RaeBright
Summary: Maybe it was fate that he had met the alpha when he did. Or maybe it wasn't. It wasn't that he was rude but the fact that he was forcing him to follow him through the city to some camp that he knew nothing about had him on edge. He didn't trust him any more than the alpha likely trusted Bill himself and that was fine with him. He had his gun. All he had to do was aim and shoot...





	1. Android’s Birth

**Author's Note:**

> Bill might be just a tad bit OOC. He's human so I picture him as just a slightly bit more calmed down whereas him as a demon is more unhinged. He still has his morbid curiosity and he is definitely the prideful little shit we all know him as but I just wanted to make everyone aware of this before you started reading that Bill's not going to be eternally screaming his head off in every chapter. 
> 
> He's definitely going to be sassy and snarky, though, so expect that at every turn.

Sometimes being the last human left alive wasn’t always such a bad thing. While he always adored attention, depending on the type, he also enjoyed his solitude. There wasn’t ever enough of solitude. In high school he was one of the more sought after omegas. He was already pretty by normal standards. Hell, he could toot his own horn for days without end and he wouldn’t care much for what others said about it. Honestly, he _did_ toot his own horn. He was his best critic after all, he spent so often in front of the mirror caring for himself because his image was his everything. If his scent was so appealing then he wanted his looks to match them. It wasn’t that he was vain because he didn’t have a need to be but he was prideful and he loved looking his best. There wasn’t an alpha around in his old school that didn’t get a whiff of him and smirk. He would smirk back knowingly, having an inkling of what was on their mind. Maybe they could spend a heat together some time, if he felt up to playing their game that is. 

 

Then he graduated and college was a whole other ballgame. Older alphas with a higher libido, it was almost heaven. Almost. He’d come far too close to almost being mated one too many times to be comfortable with it. He was never that big into the party scene anyhow. He might would attend a handful to indulge his friends from time to time only because he was a social butterfly and enjoyed talking but he hated the clean up and he hated how his house smelled of twelve different alphas for six weeks straight. It was more hassle than it was worth in his opinion but he still always loved the attention.

 

“Pyronica,” he whistled shortly as the pit perked from the rubble of an abandoned house in the neighborhood they had been scavenging before hopping over the bricks of the fireplace to stand at his side, tail wagging so hard her rear end was wagging with it. He gave her a fond lopsided grin as he reached down to scratch behind an ear gently before re-adjusting his hold on the rifle in his hand and cooing, “Good girl.”

 

There was once a time he would have craved attention. From anyone, to be truthful. Maybe deep down he still _did_ somewhere. It was definitely there during his heats but now? Being the pretty and well sought after omega was a death sentence. Being a remotely good looking beta was a death sentence. Being a fertile type of anything was bad. He enjoyed his solitude far more than he likely ever would have in his previous life before the world grew sick. Before everything was ravaged by this illness that turned people into monsters that prayed on the living. Before people returned from the dead and ate their own families. Whole neighborhoods, apartment complexes, housing units destroyed in an instant.

 

For a long while he hadn’t believed the stories were true. He was never really big on watching the news, that was always more his brother's thing than his, so when he had left Pyronica to her own devices in his apartment to go to his bio-chemistry class early that morning, he was blissfully unaware. He had passed person after person without a care, taking his usual route as he did every day before entering the lecture hall. Some of his friends were already talking about it. **Zombie deer** or something. He’d be the first to admit that he was only half listening and had even rolled his eyes at the notion because of how utterly insane it sounded.

 

Then at lunch, a small cafe on campus, there was more talk over a podcast on someone’s laptop. Attacks. Brutal ones, people devouring other people, eating their flesh and paying no mind to the police or their bullets. Curiosity was the only thing that kept him intrigued long enough to pay attention and eavesdrop. That was until his latte and avocado wrap was ready to be picked up, the young girl at the register yelling his name loud enough to grab his attention away. He didn’t have the patience for stupidity so while he was curious, he didn’t allow himself to feed into the drama.

 

Instead, he had taken his food and gone home to feed his dog and eat. Not only had he had his own things to do, he had someone else to take care of. What was the need in getting caught up in something that was likely drug related? The last time there was a 'zombie craze' it had been some idiot hocked up on bath salts. There was little point in getting worked up when there was probably an explanation. Most odd occurrences had explanations, right? While he himself enjoyed the weird and the supernatural from time to time, he also erred on the side of skepticism. He could enjoy a good ‘ghost caught on film’ video from the internet and still understand when someone said they didn’t quite believe. So while everyone had a collective panic attack over a supposed zombie apocalypse, he was going to continue with his day to day.

 

It took awhile for the reality to sink in. Nothing ever happened as they claimed it would on television. There was no global domination, there was no massive take over, the entire planet wasn’t taken by storm. It happened little by little. Small chunks of life would go missing at a time, albeit almost unnoticeable at first. One minute he could take the bus downtown and the next all buses were closed. One day he could go to his local grocery store for milk and the next it was out of business. Small things would disappear but for some reason he couldn’t ever connect the dots. It didn’t seem real to him. Enough things were normal for him to continue living. Sure, he had to invest in more gas now to drive to the larger store in town. And maybe he couldn’t really travel off campus as much because, **wow** , there were an awful lot of military around Gravity Falls today, but he was still making a living writing his articles and going to school. He had his dog and his friends. There was absolutely _no_ connection.

 

Soon enough, however, people started to go missing. At first it was one or two students and maybe a teacher. Then five or more. Classes started to dwindle down from lectures full of ready to learn young adults to a handful of tired eyes staring listlessly at the bored as an emotionally distraught teacher wrote something _akin_ to words on the blackboard behind them. Things slowly started to shift and Bill was slowly starting to take notice as it became harder to ignore. One day a student would be sick and the next they would be gone. One day a teacher would be nursing a bandaged wound and the next a new professor would be taking their place. It was almost like clockwork. Someone would disappear and everything would continue on as if nothing had changed. Until one had slipped through the system. Bill had noticed she had been sick for a while. He wasn’t sure how she was getting inside with the guards stationed at the entrance with the eye scanner but she continued to attended school no matter what. Dark red circles ringed her eyes and her skin was pale and sickly translucent. Her nails were chipped and thin and her lips were chapped, her teeth and breath were no better - not to mention body odor. Bill would have said something but she smelled of death and he was sure there were no cure for that. 

 

She sat front row in his child psychology class. The poor girl was usually always on time and that desk was always hers. When she wasn’t now a days no one had the heart to take it from her. Bill had taken to watching her through the week instead of focusing on the lecture because she had become _twitchy_. An almost psychotic twitchy. The kind of twitchy that meant something was going to happen and it was going to happen soon. While every movement she made had Bill sitting on the edge of his seat, every day usually ended the same with her standing and thanking the professor in her small, fragile voice before stumbling up the stairs and through the double doors. Today seemed different though. She followed the professor’s movements in an almost hawk-like trance. The poor girl was honest to God salivating, the substance dripping from her chin to plop onto the surface of her desk in globs of murky water. Bill was almost transfixed. It was morbidly interesting and he was engrossed. 

 

Until she jumped.

 

The desk clattered to the floor in a heap as her chair was kicked back against the wall behind her from the force. The student just above her at their own desk jumped back in surprise and climbed the stairs to the row above them. The professor, God help them, had no clue what was going on. Either they had decided to keep themselves as blissfully unaware as Bill had tried to be during the first three months or they were simply in utter shock but all they could think of doing was backing up into their own oak desk and putting their hands up as a defense. Some defense it was. 

 

While some of the more brave alpha students jumped up and ran for the girl who had the beta professor pinned, snapping and gnashing her teeth as the pair fought for dominance, the rest looked on in stunned horror including Bill. Everyone was sure the other student was omega as well and she shouldn’t have been as strong as she was but for the life of them none of the alphas could pull her off. She fought and she fought hard and the professor had nowhere to run. His arms gave way under her strength and her teeth met his neck, digging in as blood sprayed across the desk and the black board. He cried out and the alphas that had attempted to save him all jumped back in unison as she dug in, pulling veins and jugular out one by one. Blood was absolutely everywhere and there was nothing anyone could do.

 

Bill would like to say he was the first to move. He always thought himself brave, always thought himself a survivor, but all he could do was watch as she ate away at the man’s neck. He had lived for a while, gurgling and twitching in her hold, weakling trying to push her away while also trying to grab at his neck in hopes of maybe stopping the blood but that was over now. Whatever life was left was gone, his eyes staring blankly toward the group of what was left of his students as she slurped away at whatever she could of his insides.

 

“Whatcha got, girl?” Bill glanced up from the small river as he refilled his canteen, Pyronica stalking over slowly with something he couldn’t quite make out hanging from her mouth. He sat back on his heels as she neared, screwing the lid shut as he watched her drop the item. A small teddy bear. They hadn’t been to this neighborhood yet and had only looked through a handful of houses but it never failed. She had a knack for finding these things.

 

He picked it up slowly, turning the small doll over a few times in search of a tag. A few others had names and he had kept one or two as a remembrance of the people that once were but this one didn’t. It looked well played with however, the brown fur worn and weathered. A small melancholic sigh left him as he stared down at the bear, turning it back over in his hand and running a thumb over the faded blue bow that sat loosely around its neck. It never got any easier, did it? Every other time Pyronica found one of these bears there was some part of him that hoped _maybe_ he could find the family. That maybe they weren’t dead. Maybe he could return it to them, give the family some hope. He knew that would never be the case but he liked dreaming some times.

 

A small whine caught his attention and he looked up to see Pyronica eyeing the bear almost possessively, a hopeful glimmer in those brown pools. Her tail started to wag as Bill took notice of her and he rolled his eyes. Well, the kid wouldn’t miss it much now, “Have at it. But we can’t take it with us,” tossing it up into the air, he snorted softly as the pit hopped up and caught the toy in her mouth before trotting off happily to chew up her new treasure under the tree Bill had decided to take a break under.

 

“You’re somethin’ else, mutt,” he grumbled fondly before standing and stretching, hoisting his arms high above his head and groaning in satisfaction as his back popped just the slightest. He used to not be so sentimental. He adored kids when he was alone but he was quick to chalk it up to his instincts as an omega - wanting to have children and be a mother and all that after all. He wasn’t desensitized and he wasn’t a psychopath, he had feelings and certain things would pull at his heart every so often but feelings were awkward and he kept things to himself more often than not. 

 

With the world the way it was now? Everyone at each other’s throats for nothing and killing simply because there was nothing to hold them back? Simply because they could? Maybe he let his instincts take control a bit more often than he used to now but he was quick to reign them in.

 

A small grunt left him as he settled down next to Pyronica who had already chewed off the eyes of the bear and was working on the nose, stuffing and fluff left to be scattered by the small breeze. They were a ways away from home and still had a few more houses in this neighborhood to go yet but he was already so exhausted. The sun was high in the sky as well he had noticed and it forced him to push the sleeve of his leather jacket up to peer at his watch. It was that late already? Maybe he could come back tomorrow before any raiders decided this place would be a good place to squat… He glanced around at the ruined houses again, bricks and wood lay scattered in the grass as broken windows caught onto whatever was left of tattered curtains that had clearly seen better days. Old toys lay rusted in the yards of various houses, as a playground with a wooden swing set remained forgotten near the 'dead end' road sign at the end of the street.

 

At one point there were families here. Bill could picture children riding their bikes up and down the sidewalk, running up porch steps to call for their friends to come out and play or even hosting baseball games in the middle of the road. Families that had hopes and dreams, jobs and careers. How many had just moved in, how many were just expecting? Idly he ran his fingers through Pyronica’s short fur as his eyes scanned over the houses once more, seeing faces that were no longer there. Where had his own family gone to? He tried not to worry about them often simply because he knew they could take care of themselves. They were the Cipher's. If he could do it then so could they but… Some days he found himself wondering. Would he see them again? Were they searching for him? Should he be searching for them?

 

“C’mon, shithead,” he cooed softly before standing and grabbing his bag, hoisting one strap up and over his shoulder before slipping the other on, “Needa get a move on before it gets too dark and your dumb ass gets us lost.”

 

She looked up then with a snort, stray stuffing hanging from her lips before she huffed and grabbed the bear, giving it a fierce shake as fluff flew in every direction. Always was so full of expression and it never failed to make Bill snicker. She hated being called a dumbass but her sense of direction was skewed even for a dog. Bill was usually the one to lead them which was admittedly a bad idea considering. He wasn’t always the best with directions either and sometimes he could get easily turned around. Other days he could get seriously lost! Thank the Lord for the Mystery Shack. That place had everything. From brochures to maps and maps were what he needed.

 

The trek back up the mountain was always harder than the trek down and he wasn’t looking forward to how it would fair during winter. The likely chance that he wasn’t going to be able to continue to stay in the Shack during the winter was becoming increasingly obvious the more he thought about it so he tended not to think about it too often. Bill was smart and knew all sorts of things. However, _knowing_ things and _doing_ those things were two **different** things entirely. While he knew how to garden and likely could start his own at the Shack, actually finding the proper things to start it were going to be a task. While he knew how to fight and could fortify the Shack against attacks, actually making the things he needed to make to do that was easier said than done. Currently, he had been lucky that everyone had assumed the Shack empty. It was out of the way which meant it was likely already looted. It wasn’t but that was beyond the point.

 

Point was, no one knew he was up here and that was fine with him. Nobody was going to go out of their way for some rusted bobble heads and dusty snow globes and Bill liked those odds.

 

The back door was shoved open harshly with his shoulder as Pyronica forced her way in through the small crack that was made from his efforts and Bill rolled his eyes, “Yeah, cool. Thanks a lot, real pal.”

 

How could one chest be so heavy? Hopefully he wasn’t getting another ear infection… Shit, speaking of. With another hard push, the chest gave way and the door finally budged, giving Bill enough room to enter the Shack. His backpack was slipped in first before he followed in behind it and the door was shut and locked behind him. The chest squeaked across the floor as Bill shoved it back against the door with a grunt, panting softly as he wedged it between the wooden floorboards and the door itself before being satisfied that it would hold. He’d have to check the gift shop’s door sooner rather than later. While he wasn’t usually wrong he hated surprises.

 

His bag was grabbed by the loop at the top as he began to make his way for the kitchen only to stop as he peered into the living room to spy Pyronica lounging on her back in the recliner. Once more he rolled his eyes before leaning against the doorframe, “Havin’ fun lazing about, fat ass? Work hard today?”

 

She huffed in answer but made no move to get up, her head only tilting to eye him.

 

“I swear, how’d I end up with a service dog like you?” he grumbled as he reached up to fiddle with the hearing aid in his ear, pulling it out as he waltzed off for the kitchen.

 

The inner piece didn’t look dirty but Bill didn’t want to take his chances. He kept a close eye on his heats and he wasn’t close to one yet. If he were weak and exhausted already then he could run the risk of an ear infection. Living alone with one of those before wasn’t a problem, he could take the bus to the doctor and get a prescription for some ear drops and be done with it. Sadly, that wasn’t how the world worked now a days and he was sure the pharmacy in Gravity Falls had been looted clean a thousand times over by now. Maybe not of ear drops though… It couldn’t hurt to check. 

 

After the mirror in the kitchen was cleaned off, Bill set to work with hunting down his flashlight in his pack, relishing in the blissful silence that surrounded him as his hearing aid laid on the counter at his hip. He had hated the thing as soon as he had agreed to it but he also valued school so he _reluctantly_  said 'yes'. As in, he allowed his mother to muscle him into getting it. Then he allowed her to force him into getting Pyronica. He was still deciding on if that one was a good decision or not.

 

“There you are, fucker…” flashlight in hand, Bill flicked the button on quickly before facing the mirror, pointing the light in his ear as he tilted his head toward the mirror. It was a little red but it wasn’t sore yet. He also didn’t feel a fever coming on so maybe he could catch it in time. The light flickered off quickly as Bill set it down and eyed the hearing aid before his fingers wrapped around it and lifted it up. It was clean, he knew it was, so it wasn’t the hearing aid. Maybe he just had shitty luck. 

 

**At least it wasn’t his heat.**

 

A small sigh left him as he put the hearing aid back in and turned it on, the sound of crickets and owls quickly filling the silence as Pyronica snored softly from the living room. He was right to come home when they had. Any later and they could have… An almost terrified shiver tore through him before he was shaking his head to rid himself of the thought. No need to think about what _could_ have happened. They were home now, it was fine. They were safe. He could start on dinner soon and go to bed without a worry. 

 

Before he could do that, though, he pushed himself away from the kitchen counter and wandered through the dimly lit hallways of the Shack. The old floorboards creaked under him as he went, making sure to hurry only the slightest just in case. He rounded the corner and entered the gift shop through the employee entrance, eyes scanning the small area slowly as his ears perked and listened for anything that sounded _off_. He had only ever checked the ‘mystery’ portion of the Shack once and once was enough for him. There weren’t any windows and the only door was a fire exit that only opened in the event of an actual fire - he had tried multiple times to force the door open in various ways, there was no way it was going to budge - so he was satisfied that the area was beyond safe. His eyes narrowed on the gift shop entrance then and he rounded the cashier desk to make his way over toward it. An overturned wooden display case sat wedged in front of it and Bill had a hard time moving it so he was confident there was no way someone could force an entry. Just in case, though, he had locked the deadbolt and the chain lock. Bill was nothing if not cautious.

 

As he made to turn, his eyes caught movement through the window of the gift shop door and he stood still for a moment. A small tabby cat, skinny as could be, came trudging through the underbrush of the treeline. It had a collar on but it was shockingly loose and Bill felt his heart clench and his chest tighten at the sight. It wasn’t the first forgotten pet he’d seen and it likely wouldn’t be his last but it had been the first in a long while. He was sure it was starving. How the poor thing survived this long was beyond him, bears and wolves had reclaimed most of the nature trails near the Shack, it wasn’t safe for the poor thing out there. Sadly, it wasn’t safe for the poor thing in the Shack either, Bill was deathly allergic and Pyronica was horribly jealous.

 

Something startled the cat just then and it took off at lightning speed back into the brush and leaves and Bill sighed softly through his nose. Hopefully it was another animal. He hadn’t spotted any of those **things** this far up the mountain in quite a while and he didn’t want his luck to run out just yet. Things had been relatively quiet lately and he would like to keep them as such.

 

“C’mon, Py, let’s eat!” He called out as he made his way back through the hallways of the Shack quickly. He was hungry and he knew she was too. Her soft bark greeted him as he rounded the corner to already find her in the kitchen, paws on the counter and ready to grab the bag. Bill knelt down to place his hands on his knees in order to be eye level with her then, a fond smile gracing his features, “Gonna actually help me carry it this time?”

 

Another bark, only slightly louder and more excited, as her tail began to wag.

 

“Wow, I’m impressed, Py. Pullin’ your weight finally!” he mocked, straightening to place his hands on his hips, “Hope you aren’t getting sick!”

 

This time she growled before snorting in his direction and grabbing the bag by the side with her teeth, yanking it from the counter and down into the floor with a thud, the cans and other items rattling and clanking together inside. Before Bill could say anything else, she trotted around him with purpose and drug the bag into the living room and toward the fireplace before letting the bag go and snorting, staring off toward Bill as the omega followed behind as if to say, ‘wanna mock me now?’

 

“Okay, okay,” putting his hands up defensively, Bill had to bite at his lower lip to keep himself from bursting out into laughter, “ _You win._ Good girl, Pyronica.”

 

She snorted again and held her head high, waltzing off for the recliner once more. There was once a time that Bill could have sworn he were the sassiest person alive but maybe it was his dog. Or maybe they were just made for each other. Either way, at least she kept him amused. Solitude could grow lonesome at times. If he didn’t have Pyronica he wasn’t sure he would have made it as long as he had.

 

“Got our choice of…” Bill muttered lowly as he emptied out the bag of canned foods, reading the ruined labels one at a time before finding something that didn’t sound extremely disgusting, “ravioli or spaghetti.”

 

Pyronica let go of a likely disgusted growl as she stared at him from her spot curled up in the chair and Bill rolled his eyes.

 

“Look, it’s the end of the world, _Princess_. Not gonna find any Ol’ Roy out there any time soon. You’re lucky I found this, okay?” he held the cans up once more, shaking them in exasperation before motioning to her again, “So, ravioli?” silence, “Spaghetti it is.”

 

He didn’t like it any either. What he liked even less was the fact he knew Pyronica should be eating more than what he was able to feed her but he had to make do. Things weren’t convenient anymore. Bill couldn’t just walk out the door and head off to the store and pick up a bag of all natural dog food. He couldn’t grab his cell phone and order take out, feel guilty and give her a plate of peanut butter chicken. The world didn’t work that way any more. It was probably easier in a group but he was likely considered disabled even though he had lived this long on his own. The last thing he wanted was a group of unknown people treating him like a child. Treating him like **royalty** during a heat maybe, but not a child.

 

As the fire slowly began to lick up the logs and catch them alight in the fireplace, Bill glanced back behind his shoulder at Pyronica only to spy her glowering at him with a pout. Her lips were puffed out and her eyes were narrowed and full of a sad resentment that could only be brought on by the disappointment of nasty food. Canned pasta was gross and he had spoiled her before everything literally went to hell. He knew it was a bad idea from the moment he had dropped that hot dog but here he sat, still amazed that he was surprised.

 

“Are you serious right now?” Bill sighed out, turning to face the dog with a fierce and disapproving glare of his own, “You know I can’t help it.”

 

She whined, long and loud and it made his hearing aid hiss with feedback. Bill flinched, reaching up reflexively to turn it off before she stopped and he narrowed his eyes in reprimand.

 

“That wasn’t fair.”

 

Her only response was a snort but damn did she look smug.

 

With a frustrated groan, Bill got to work with opening the cans of spaghetti with his pocket knife before dumping them in the cooking pot in a huff so he could place it over the fire, “Look, we can start hunting soon, okay? I just...wanted to eat normal food for a while longer.”

 

Normal food was a relative term for him. He was far more healthy considering most canned pastas were processed but it was mostly the fact that they were from a life he used to be a part of that kept him searching. There was no way in hell he was going to find fresh fruits or vegetables just laying around untouched so he had settled for canned foods. He was easily a creature of nostalgia and he would be the first to admit that with little to no shame. Canned foods kept him in touch with a time that he’d never see or be a part of again, a time that was five years long gone. Sue him for trying to keep that time with him for just a little bit longer.

 

“Here, Tiny Tim, _your slop_ ,” though he had held himself back from dropping the bowl onto the floor rather unceremoniously and avoided spilling its contents everywhere, he made no effort in stopping himself from lightly flicking Pyronica on the nose as she stalked over. Bill could pout with the best of them but that was usually over things he could change. This situation was different and he needed the mutt on his side, dammit! “It could be worse. It could be cat food.”

 

The pit growled low and stuffed her nose into the bowl, greedily eating mouthful after mouthful of the pasta, stopping to chew at a meatball as Bill watched on in amusement.

 

“That’s what I thought,” he laughed, his own bowl sitting in his lap as he used the warmth to warm his cold fingers, “Be grateful that this is as bad as it gets. Today.”

 

Bill knew well enough that while they had had **strikingly** good luck so far, considering all the things that had happened for them to end up hiding out in a tourist attraction, that things could have ended up much worse. They could have been found by a raider group a long time ago. Or any other group that meant ill-intent. They could have had horrible luck when scavenging for food and items, could have not found the Shack intact. A number of horrible things could have gone wrong for them that just hadn’t. Bill had never been religious before and was quite positive he didn’t believe in a higher God but there must be _something_ looking out for him out there. Too bad it hadn’t been looking out for his friends too…

 

Pyronica huffed loudly as she laid against his leg, head coming to rest on his knee before groaning in contentment, her bowl left licked spotless just to the left of her in the dingy carpeted floor. Bill watched her for a few silent seconds before stuffing a spoonful of food into his mouth and allowing himself to soak up what little affection she was offering. She’d always been a loving dog but since everything had happened Pyronica had quickly took on the role of protector. Pit bulls were a sadly ostracized breed simply because the media believed everything and people believed the media but Pyronica was definitely special. While Bill was sure she could rip off a limp if need be she was so incredibly sweet he couldn’t picture it. He didn’t want to either. He didn’t want her to have to fight, that would be his job. Damn did she have some teeth, though. She had scared away quite the number of lingering Alpha once upon a time.

 

“Tired?” his voice was soft as he ran his fingers across her fur, spoon left forgotten in his bowl as she stretched out against him with a satisfied groan at the pets, “Me too…”

 

He pat at her chest a few times before ushering her to the chair so he could finish his food. While he was sure there were likely bedrooms somewhere in the Shack, he didn’t want to venture very far. While he hadn’t smelled anything off - dead - in the Shack, the thought of finding it was slightly unsettling. Instead, Pyronica and he camped out in the living room. They would curl up in the chair and recline back in it together. It was easier to hear if anyone were trying to get in from the living room anyway. At least, that’s how Bill justifies the fear of not exploring the rest of the Shack. Out of curiosity he had rounded the outside of the Shack and had checked all of the windows and looked for any other doors he may not have noticed. When he didn’t see any then that gave him no reason to go looking around inside. The old recliner was good enough for him and Pyronica didn’t care either way anyway, so no harm done!

 

“Alright, up,” bowls put away and backpack stored, Bill waltzed over toward the chair with the quilt he had packed from their apartment, unfolding it gently as he spoke.

 

Once Pyronica was settled however it was always so hard to get her to move. Bill could get in and cover up over top of her but she wasn’t the biggest fan of sleeping under the blanket for long and the chair wasn’t exactly big enough for her to roll around and get comfortable on so Bill liked to avoid to mess when he could. The mutt always had different plans, of course, but Bill was determined.

 

“I’m serious, get up. You hate sleeping under this blanket,” it was already unfolded and draped over the arm of the chair so Bill got to work on kicking his boots off before ridding himself of his leather jacket, “And you know what’ll happen if you don’t move.”

 

The pit groaned but stood before hopping off of the chair and Bill blew a triumphant raspberry in her direction. He wasn’t above a few harmless threats to get what he wanted! Before either of them could settle down for the night Bill had to finish undressing and Pyronica yawned loudly as the blonde began to fumble hurriedly with the buttons of his yellow flannel. Maybe she could sleep comfortably with a collar on but Bill didn’t want to sleep in his clothes, okay? Calm down, mutt. Just for laughs he made his way as slowly as possible over to his duffel bag before allowing his shirt to slip from his shoulder and he could have sworn Pyronica had rolled her own eyes this time. The thought made him snort a laugh so he quickly grabbed for a sweater and sweatpants, discarding his jeans and changing quickly.

 

“There,” he huffed as he crawled into the chair and covered up, only to let out an ‘oof’ as Pyronica jumped up into the chair and plopped against him, “Happy now?”

 

Her tail wagged gently as she settled in against him and Bill reclined the chair back to get more comfortable himself. The fire sat crackling in the hearth, keeping the room a comfortable warm and Bill purred softly before laying an arm over Pyronica to pull her closer. His fingers played with her fur gently as she sighed, the fire casting shadows across the pair of them while he watched her doze off quickly. Even if she were all he had now he was okay with that. Would likely continue to be okay with that. He didn’t need anyone else so long as he had her.

 

“Night, shithead,” he cooed softly, hand coming up to pet gently at her head as she snored against his leg, “Got a lotta work to do in the morning.”


	2. Unfamiliar Familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't too sure about how I would feel making Pyronica a dog.
> 
> When I first thought of this, I was watching my fiance's and my pit/shep mix scratch while I was zoning out and the tag 'Pyronica is a dog' came to me and I thought, "Okay, I gotta do it," but I was still on the fence. Even while writing the first chapter I wasn't sure it would work out too well.
> 
> After this one, though? I think I've fallen in love.

A thick fog rolled across the hills and pavement of the small town of Gravity Falls as early morning dew settled on each individual blade of grass. There wasn’t a breeze but the birds were chirping their usual early morning song as Bill and Pyronica trudged their way down the ruined streets toward the enter of town. Only thing was, Bill couldn’t hear them. He had the forethought last night to take his hearing aid out but had talked himself out of it before actually settling down. It didn’t help a bit that Pyronica was being just _a bit_ of an entitled brat last night, cue a disgruntled glare in her direction as she trotted along at his side happily unaware. He had already warned her that she needed to be his ears today. The hearing aid was hot, inner and outer piece, when he woke up and his ear was sore. Upon inspection in the mirror with the flashlight the redness he’d seen last night had darkened in color so he opted to go without the device today. He still wasn’t sure how this had happened to begin with but there wasn’t a use in dwelling on it, it was done. Maybe in a fit of sudden anger Pyronica had licked in his ear when he was sleeping once and it dried so he just never knew. Poor dog was so tired of his bad canned food that she was actively trying to kill him! He’d ask but like hell if he could hear the answer, not that she'd give him one anyway.

 

The town was quiet now and Bill looked around the square almost at a loss as they walked in the direction of the pharmacy. He remembered pulling pranks on visiting children here when he was younger. His brother wasn’t much of a fan of the pranks but Bill himself had fun and that’s what had mattered at the time. Now it was empty. A ghostly shell of what it used to be with broken store front windows with furniture strewn about the streets and bricks from the surrounding building’s foundations laying in piles on the pavement or in the overgrown grass. There were a few sandbags piled up on top of each other in various 'strategic places' in order to make barriers to hide behind, back when the military had occupied the town in hopes of securing the citizens but those days were long gone. Bill hadn’t seen a soldier in years much less one trying to help and the raiders used the barriers more than any soldier did now. It was almost ironic, they were placed there for the safety of the people and now the _wrong_ people used them to _terrorize_ the safety of the people. 

 

A small nudge to the barrel of his rifle caught his attention and he glanced down toward Pyronica who stared up at him expectantly with wide doe eyes. At first all he could do was narrow his eyes in confusion until he looked up to judge where they were and noticed that they were standing in front of the pharmacy. His face heated up in hot embarrassment as he shuffled from one foot to the other before huffing to himself.

 

“Yeah, I’m goin’, mutt,” Bill muttered lowly before walking through the busted glass doors, boots crunching against broken glass as he went.

 

Pyronica sat down on the sidewalk to wait, Bill having instructed her to do so countless times by now that she no longer needed the command. While he enjoyed her company and likely needed her inside, he didn’t feel all too comfortable having her walk across broken glass with unprotected paws. He couldn’t hear right now and if she got hurt and he didn’t know… Right now it was safer for her to wait for him outside than it was for her to follow.

 

The pharmacy was dark save for the broken skylights above his head bathing small select spots above destroyed display shelves in natural lighting. Most of the shelves were bare, a handful of lotion bottles and shampoos laying haphazardly across one shelf and littering the floor to his left as a few boxes of toothpaste and other such dental healthcare sat rotting on the shelves to his right. Anything of importance that could be useful was gone, either having been looted before by someone else or by Bill himself when he had found sanctuary in the Mystery Shack. He had never thoroughly looked through the actual pharmacy itself namely because he had raided his medicine cabinet at home and brought what he had with him when he left. That being said, he didn’t have ear drops at home when he had left. So he hoisted himself up and over the counter, setting his rifle down across the counter top before dropping onto the other side as his boots crushed broken pill bottles that laid scattered around the tiled flooring below him. If he thought it was dark in the store then color him surprised. The shelving unit for the medicine was bathed in pitch blackness and Bill had to squint just to count how many units there actually were. He was surprised to find that there was actually quite a bit of medicine left over. He was sure someone would have grabbed as much as they could. There was evidence that someone **had** been through here, bottles were overturned and there were plenty on the ground, Bill had actually kicked a few when he walked forward. Maybe they had just grabbed what they needed? Left whatever they didn’t for whoever else came wandering by looking for medicine?

 

It was the smallest bit disconcerting and Bill had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach but he stepped forward regardless of the gnawing anxiety, pushing himself in between two shelves that were shoved close together either during a scuffle or when the pharmacists decided to make tracks. Most of what was left actually _was_ useful, antibiotics and pain medicines, things to reduce fevers and the like. Bill was amazed that anyone would leave these things here to rot even when looting. The kindest of people could be greedy when given the right circumstance. There were even inhalers for asthma, insulin, _EpiPens_ … The uncertain feeling was starting to grow and every instinct in him told him it’d be best to turn and run with his tail between his legs but he had a reason for being here. There was no way he could get things done while being sick. Going to college was hard enough with a cold, surviving the literal end of the world with one was going the be an actual living hell.

 

While he didn’t need them right now and he had a bottle of unopened cough syrup at the Shack, Bill still pocketed a bottle of antibiotics just in case. And if ever need be he grabbed a bottle of painkillers as well. They were likely to knock him out for more than an hour but if he ever needed the rest then, hey, free nap. He had yet to see any ear drops though… They **had** to be here because what pharmacy _didn’t_ have ear drops? Or he hoped they had them anyway. Maybe they were just on another shelf because he didn’t see eye drops either and those two things were usually together, right?

 

With a frustrated sigh he began to slip back out from between the shelves, making sure his backpack didn’t get caught on the shelves themselves as he went. As he stumbled out from between the shelves with a breath of relief, he noticed Pyronica barking and pacing anxiously from her spot just outside the door. Bill scrunched up his nose in confusion and followed her line of sight into the darkness toward his right where the back room was located, narrowing his eyes to try and see what she was seeing. As far as he could tell there wasn’t anything there. The back room was just as dark, if not darker, than the actual pharmacy itself and he sighed in confusion before looking back toward her and hissing a reprimand of ‘stop it’ before moving farther into the pharmacy. He knew he’d told her to be his ears today but he didn’t think she’d get so overzealous with it. Maybe she just had a bad feeling about this place like he did. This wasn’t the first time Bill had been in the store but it was the first time he’d ever been behind the counter of the pharmacy. He had stupidly thought himself prepared for most anything that could happen and hadn’t bothered, assuming that everyone had already grabbed what was the most important. They hadn’t it seems and Bill was positive ‘kindness’ wasn’t the reason.

 

Against his better judgement, Bill wedged himself between another fallen shelf to look through the medicine, picking up bottle after bottle to read out of curiosity. If he felt it useful then he would stash it away in his bag, if not then he would discard it in the floor at his feet. It was possible he was making more noise than needed by dropping them but he didn’t want to pick up the same bottle twice and waste his own time. He didn’t want to be here all day and he was already wasting daylight that he could be using to scavenge neighborhoods for food or tools. As another bottle left his hand he glanced over to Pyronica who was glaring in the direction behind him, teeth bared in a deep snarl. Her stance was stiff and her fur stood on end. She looked as if she were almost ready to run into the store and the only thing stopping her was the shards of glass littering the floor in front of her. Bill shook his head as he continued his search, a small sigh leaving him.

 

What was he going to do if he couldn’t find any ear drops? Was there another pharmacy in town? Maybe a bigger one that wasn’t locally owned like this one was? He couldn’t remember seeing another one and if this one wasn’t looted then it was likely any other pharmacy would be, especially if it was bigger. A frustrated and hissed curse left his lips as he tossed a few other useless pill bottles to the ground and he squeezed himself farther between the shelves. They had to be here, they just **had** to be. It was a pharmacy for Christ’s sake and who in their right mind thought of looting ear drops? No body! People didn’t plan ahead in the middle of a crisis, so they had to be here! Bill just had to keep looking.

 

Six more pill bottles were discarded as Bill deemed them useless, a couple even being eye drops that he’d almost threw out of anger for getting his hopes up, before he growled lowly and slammed his hand into the shelf hard enough to jostle it against the wall. Every bottle still sitting on the shelf rattled and one from above his head fell over onto Bill who just barely caught it. He turned it over to read the label and his eyes widened as he almost jumped for joy.

 

“ _Holy shit a brick_ \- Py, I found ‘em-!”

 

He had turned to face Pyronica and hold his prize above his head in triumph, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face but the shelf that had been leaning against his back was shoved against him forcefully by something and he paused to turn. Only to come face to face with a snarling undead. Spittle dripped from his teeth as he snarled and pushed on the shelf, trying to force it to give way in order to get to Bill. Old blood was caked on the pharmacist jacket he wore and it was splattered up his neck and across his face. He smelled absolutely horrible, stringy black hair falling into his cold, milky eyes as they focused and zeroed in on Bill. There was once a time that crazed look was something Bill would have craved from someone but this one sent a chill down his spine that screamed ‘danger’ and ‘run’. He couldn’t help it but he stared up at the other for a time in wide eyed horror, almost in shock to see him here, before his eyes flickered down to the taller’s chest in search of anything that could tell him who this poor fuck was. The corroded name tag on his jacket read 'Robbie' and Bill sucked on his teeth as he had to close his eyes to look away. 

 

“You annoying fuck…” he breathed, letting go of a large inhale of air he hadn’t been aware of holding in, “Always wondered what might have happened to you…”

 

It took longer than Bill had expected for him to actually open his eyes to meet Robbie’s dead, frenzied stare. The taller’s arms slotted through the shelves in order to reach and grab at Bill but coming just short of making true contact, fingers grazing the blonde’s leather jacket in attempts to pull him closer. For a time all Bill could do was stare. Robbie was younger than Bill was but they had taken a few of the same classes in college. It wasn’t that he knew Robbie well or personally but the mere fact that he knew Robbie at all and was here now, looking at what had become of the younger, it was surreal.

 

“Makes me wonder what happened to Red,” he spoke softly as he slipped his hunting knife free from its holster and adjusted his hold on the handle, “You two were always together even if you _weren’t_ dating, right? Always side by side with that little group of friends, either fighting or yelling about something or other...”

 

Slowly and with ease, Bill took his free hand and slipped it through the shelves as Robbie was occupied with reaching for him and grabbed at the nape of Robbie’s neck, succeeding in angering the other as he thrashed. The shelf rocked back and forth as Robbie tried and failed to make a pass at him, one hand finally coming up to grab at Bill’s wrist, slender fingers wrapping around it tightly only after slipping in their hold a handful of times. It must be frustrating knowing that Bill could so easily have direct command of his own body but it took Robbie so long just to blink, let alone walk and grab things. Truly a pathetic existence indeed. A limbo worse than purgatory, spending his days stuck in a pharmacy, waiting out any random passerby to wonder in, one that was stupid enough to not be armed at all times. To live with a hunger that would never go away or be satisfied with no matter how much he ate. Bill locked eyes with Robbie once more before he lined his knife’s tip up with the taller’s temple and pushed until Robbie stopped squirming and snarling, until blood dripped onto the shelf in a steady flow of darkly coagulated red. It oozed like oil as it pooled and covered the shelf, staining the white a sickly copper, and Bill sneered at the sight before taking his free hand from Robbie’s neck to cover his nose with his jacket sleeve. 

 

It could have been worse, he reminded himself. It could have been one of his friends. He could be doing this to one of his friends or maybe even to Pyronica.

 

A small sigh left him as he yanked the knife free from Robbie’s skull with force, blood splattering across the railing of the shelf as he’d done so. The blade was wiped clean of blood, the red liquid staining his jeans before he replaced it back into the holster attached to his belt. All of this just for some damn ear drops. Had he known the little idiot was in here… Well, at least he now knew why not many people had looted the medicine. Someone must have heard him or maybe was attacked by him. That would explain why so many of the shelves were shoved around and why so many pill bottles were on the floor but untouched. If only he had his hearing then this could have been avoided. His eyes drifted back to the hand he’d grabbed Robbie with, his index and middle finger wrapped tightly around the medicine in question. He had it now, he didn’t have to stay here for much longer.

 

“Okay,” there was blood on his boots and it squished as he slipped from in between the shelves, bottles rolling away as he kicked at them on his way out, “let’s get the hell outta dodge, mutt.”

 

He felt like he should apologize to Pyronica. She had known Robbie was there the entire time, had tried to warn him even and keep him safe and all because he couldn’t see the bastard or hear him he had continued on as if nothing was wrong. Just like before, when it all started. Bill didn’t want to have to find people, want to run into anyone who had been turned or _‘reborn’_. He’d never been a sentimental type of person but something about finding the people he used to know by name, having to put them down as if he hadn’t, like they were animals? 

 

Before, when life was normal, he had wondered if he could do things like this. His friends would talk about the end of days often, it was a hot topic all over the media. If it happened, what would they be capable of? Could they steal from someone? Loot a store clean as the owner watched helplessly? Hurt someone? **Kill** someone? If one of them were hurt, because they had all unanimously elected that they would stay in a group, could they be capable of putting each other down? Bill had snorted at the time, had rolled his eyes, because of course he could. There was no way he couldn’t put down one of his friends if they had been ‘bitten’, if they had ‘turned’. He had assured them all quite confidently that he could be the one they could turn to if it ever happened because he wouldn’t leave them like that.

 

That was before when it was a simple ‘what if’ scenario spoken among friends during a drunken night at the bar. When things were simple and fine. Now that Bill was here, doing it, staring at one of the people he knew, had tutored in college to get him into this damn pharmacy in the first place, watching as the blood flowed down the shelf like a morbid waterfall, he knew now that he was wrong.

 

He huffed a frustrated sigh before turning away and hoisting himself back up onto the counter. With a quick grab at his rifle, he slid himself over to land back on the other side, the safer side his mind told him, and he sauntered over toward Pyronica who by now was whining and wagging her tail so hard she could barely sit still. Bill didn’t have to have his hearing to know she was whining, he could tell it in her face, the way her eyes squinted as she smiled up at him in clear worry, almond brown eyes alight with adoration and devotion. He gave her as reassuring a smile as he could. She had tried so hard to keep him safe and he had ignored her…

 

“Hey,” he knelt down, setting his rifle on the sidewalk at his feet as his free hand came up to pet behind one of her ears, “ _I’m okay_ , calm your tits.”

 

Old girl wasted no time in hopping up, placing her paws on his knees and licking with all her might at his chin and neck, tail whipping behind her a mile a minute.

 

“And look,” opening up his other hand, he revealed the bottle of ear drops to the dog, Pyronica taking her time from licking at his chin to sniff at it in curiosity, “I found what we came here for. So, we’re gucci, right? We can go home!”

 

She snorted and stared up at him with narrowed eyes as her tail slowed to a small thrum and Bill recognized it as her own little way to reprimand him for not listening to her. Ever since this had started the poor dog had quickly taken to mothering Bill, watching over him and hovering, stopping him from doing things that were just too dangerous or calming him down when he felt the world caving in. They were definitely a pair, that was for sure. A short laugh left him before he wrapped his arms around the dog and pulled her close, hugging her gently as she laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh.

 

Bill had never been one for hugging. Hell, he wasn’t very touchy-feely in general unless he was given a good reason to be - flirting, dating, pre-heat, or a heat itself was usually what forced him to pull another person close or to seek out affection. It took him forever to open up to someone, let alone let them wrap an arm around him. After so long going without so much as a brush from another person? A hand shake? Five years was a long time to go without any sort of interaction from someone else. It made life almost unbearable considering how talkative he used to be, how sociable he was, and it made his heats even worse - _lonely even_. So he felt he deserved this one, just this once, even if it only lasted a second and it was with a dog and not another human.

 

Surprisingly enough, however, Pyronica was the one to pull away from the hug first as she hopped back from his knees to sniff around at him in search of injury. She rounded him a few times as he sat still, keeping in the position he had knelt down in to allow her this time even though he had rolled his eyes. He likely smelled of death from being so close to one of them. It had been a good long while since he’d had to be and the last time wasn’t voluntary. Not as if this one was either but he’d put himself in that situation, albeit unknowingly. As far as he knew, he wasn’t hurt. If Robbie had grazed him or scratched him or, hell, bitten him then he would know. The only blood on him was Robbie’s and that by itself stunk to high heaven. He needed a shower and his clothes needed a wash, especially his beloved jacket.

 

“Alright, c’mon. Don’t got a lotta time to sit around in this shit,” Bill stood with a groan as he picked up his rifle and checked the bullets before reloading, Pyronica huffing against his hand in disapproval. Her nose bumped against his hip for attention and he glanced down at her before rolling his eyes once more, “I’m _fine_ , Py, see?” there he paused to hold out his arms, stopping short of turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees, “Nothing, he didn’t get me. It’s **Robbie** for fuck’s sake, guy could barely spell his name, remember?”

 

That wasn’t entirely true, the little idiot had somehow made it into college after all. That was likely because he had rode in on Wendy’s coattails because the kid had been completely obsessed with her for as long as Bill had known the small group of friends. Robbie wasn’t stupid but he also wasn’t smart. Or maybe it was merely the fact that he never applied himself or he was always obsessed with sex. One of those three things. Bill himself couldn’t blame the kid, sex was great but Bill was also a straight A student and could keep up with his work _and_ partying. Robbie couldn’t juggle a social life let alone finish schooling. So Bill had reluctantly **allowed** the professor to partner them up and Bill forced the little spitwad to make something of himself. If he didn’t want to take over the family business then he needed to shut the fuck up and listen to Bill and put the damn guitar down for more than five seconds.

 

Robbie was an underachiever in life and was likely an underachiever in death. There wasn’t any blood in the pharmacy so whoever he had attacked had made it out alive, startled but alive, so that meant Robbie sucked even as the undead. Bill glanced back inside the store then, eyes scanning the dark for a time until his sight caught the color crimson and he followed it back to Robbie who was still sprawled against the tilted shelf. He had tried and had tried hard, Bill would give him that. That was the hardest Bill had ever seen Robbie try at _anything_ that wasn’t Wendy or Tambry. 

 

A soft tug to the zipper part of his jacket caught his attention, breaking his train of thought, and he looked down at Pyronica who quickly released the leather from her mouth. Her tail was swishing softly behind her as she stared back up at him as if to say she were ready to leave. Or maybe she was trying to tell him she was tired of waiting because Bill didn’t perceive the little snotrag to be so docile. Might cower around him from time to time when he was in a bad mood but there was no way she’d simply **ask** if they could leave and go home.

 

“Yeah, lead the way, Py,” he gave the dog a fond smile before motioning for her to go on ahead, stepping back to give her the right of way. By now they had walked the path from the Shack to town and back over a hundred times, there was no way she could get them lost. He hoped so anyway.

 

The gravel crunched below his boots as he followed behind the dog, rifle sitting loosely in his hold as he scanned the town once more, bottle of ear drops now secured in his pocket. It never failed to jar him as the sun began to set in the horizon behind the buildings of Gravity Falls' town square. How the town used to be so full of life not but five years ago and now it was so incredibly empty. It was almost hard to imagine a day like this could ever come, there were just so many people in the small town and everybody knew everybody by name. The nightlife scene in Gravity Falls was always lacking just a bit but it was there and seeing the sun set without being passed by a gang of bikers headed for the seedy bar, it made the world so horrifically silent.

 

Bill was never sure when the military had started to evacuate people because he himself was never evacuated. No one had knocked on his door looking for him and no one had approached him to ask him to follow them out of town. One day there were people in town and the next there wasn’t. It was full of life one day then dead the next. It gave Bill an odd feeling of emptiness in his chest to know that there was absolutely nobody left in town anymore. He tried not to dwell on the fact that it was just Pyronica and him in Gravity Falls anymore but he had his days. Like today.

 

So many things could have gone wrong today in that darkened pharmacy. If he hadn’t felt Robbie push on that shelf. If he hadn’t found the ear drops when he had. If he hadn’t turned around in time or had his knife on him. He could have been bitten. Or, worse yet, eaten alive like his child psychology professor. He was alone here and there was no one here that had his back aside from Pyronica. Even if she _could_ have helped, Robbie could have turned on her just as easily. She could have gotten hurt or bitten or killed and then he would be left entirely alone. That thought had him tightening his hold on his rifle as his eyes drifted down to the dog trotting ahead of him protectively, the pavement of the main road melting away to dirt and gravel as they reached the bottom of the mountain and began the lonely trek up.

 

The pit would have attacked Robbie if she could have entered the pharmacy and there was no doubt in Bill’s mind about that. Pyronica wouldn’t have even hesitated. Robbie was a threat and it was her job to protect Bill from **all** threats. She knew that all they had was each other now and she also knew that the only ones keeping them alive was each other. They had to rely on each other for everything now. Robbie would have hurt her…

 

“You know I had it under control, right?” the words left him before he could stop them and Pyronica glanced back at him as she walked ahead, tail beginning to wag softly from the sudden attention, “If something like that happens again, I can probably handle that, too.”

 

There she snorted, Bill taking notice of the scrunch in her nose as she did so being his only indication that she had, as her eyes narrowed in disapproval to his words. It was clear she didn’t like what he was saying but it wasn’t as if something like that was going to happen often. Hell, Bill had been careful these past five years to stay out of sight. His scent wasn’t easy to track and he made sure of that and if he ever felt they would run into the undead then they usually opted for stealth - he would forever remind Pyronica of how cute she was crawling around on her stomach when she thought she was being sneaky. This had been his first time coming face to face with one since everything had happened. He didn’t want her thinking she needed to act every single time, he didn’t want to lose her.

 

“I’m serious, Py,” his eyes narrowed back at her as they walked, Bill coming to fall in line beside her instead of behind so he didn’t have to talk so loudly, “Those things are dangerous, they could hurt you just as badly as they could hurt me.”

 

If they had more people, if they had friends that they could rely on, then he wouldn’t ask this of her. He knew the dog was trained to keep him safe regardless of what the situation was but he had grown fond of her over the years. At first she had been merely a service animal that accompanied him to high school and back. She helped him hear things that he couldn’t when he was tired of his hearing aid and she helped calm him down when life got to him. As he grew and introduced her to his friends as his circle grew as well, she became more than a dog and more than a helper. She became his family and she was now his _only_ family. Just as he was all she had left, she was also all he had left. He didn’t want something stupid taking her away from him if he could help it especially if that something stupid was going to be Robbie.

 

“All I’m saying is,” a small sigh left him as his shoulders sagged. He was starting to get really tired and _really_ hungry, he needed to use these ear drops as quick as possible, “we need to be careful and pick our battles, ya know?”

 

With a shake of her fur, Pyronica snorted, pausing to kick up gravel and dirt with her back feet in frustration before continuing to walk beside Bill. The pit was always sort of a free spirit and Bill had learned that quickly. While she could listen to a command and usually did, she usually opted for the decision that _she_ thought was safest or easiest or what would turn out better. Not that it always did because she was a dog and she was also a puppy when she was first given to Bill, but she had grown since then and she wasn’t stupid. Pyronica had a surprising amount of intuition and she seemed to just **know** things. She knew what to do, what not to do, when they should move, when they should stay. She was a Godsend and Bill thanked his lucky stars that she was here with him every step of the way.

 

“Besides,” the word was grunted as Bill shoved at the door once they climbed the steps of the back porch, forcing it to open as the chest scratched against the wood flooring under it, “what would I do without you? I wouldn’t be able to call you ‘dumb ass’ if you were dead, right?”

 

Pyronica snarled and squeezed herself through the crack in the door, back claws scritching against the porch as she forced her way in and Bill rolled his eyes before allowing his head to thump back against the screen of the door's window.

 

“Sensitive Nancy,” finally the door gave way and Bill followed behind her, closing and locking the door after himself before making sure to shove the chest back into its rightful place wedged under the door.

 

Once he was satisfied and had dusted his hands off, Bill set his rifle up against the wall in the corner near the door, hiding it in the darkness before slipping his bag off of his shoulders and heading for the living room. Pyronica was already lounging in the chair, albeit glowering in his direction, likely still sore from their previous conversation, but she seemed fairly content. They had gotten back in one piece and things were fine again. Robbie hadn’t helped any and Bill was just the slightest bit rattled but he wasn’t hurt and neither was Pyronica and that’s what mattered, right? Right. She’d deal with it, Bill was meant to be the ‘alpha’ in the canine pack terminology anyway. He set the rules and gave the commands and if he told Pyronica to cool it then she was meant to listen. 

 

The pills he had managed to nab were pulled out from his bag one by one and Bill set out to wipe them off of whatever crud they may have been covered in. Water damage and the like was a real issue now, ceilings were caving in all over the place, buildings were flooded, and the pharmacy had clearly seen better days. While the bottles were plastic and the pills inside were likely fine, Bill had a couple of boxes of over the counter cold and flu medicines that he would rather not mold over, thanks. He didn’t want to have to deal with that over top of everything else. And seeing as his clothes were already covered in blood and spit - thank you, Robbie V - all he had to do was clean the bottles off with his shirt. No extra running because he was already exhausted. Hopefully he didn’t start to run a fever but if he did, _he had antibiotics, baby_. This omega thought ahead!

 

He could feel Pyronica’s eyes on him as he rearranged the small brown wicker box he kept his medicine in to fit everything. Bill could tell that she was mad. Maybe ‘mad’ wasn’t the right word for it, distraught? Or perhaps worried? Even he could agree that the conversation they’d had wasn’t ‘happy’ and he didn’t like having it but it was needed. He wasn’t about to apologize for it either. He needed her to know that he needed her to be smart about what to do out there. If they let their emotions get in the way of everything…

 

“So, what do you want for dinner?” Bill turned to stare back at her, tired of the daggers she was shooting at his back. Too bad she couldn’t talk. They could argue about it and get over it instead of sitting in an awkward silence. Though Bill was used to talking to a dog by now, having been stuck in the Shack doing it for five years and all, he was so much better at arguing and yelling.

 

She stood from the chair and stretched heavily, a deep yawn coming to her lips before she waddled her way slowly toward the canned food stacked near the fireplace. Cans tumbled from their place to the floor as she pushed her head in between the stacks and Bill glowered at her, crossing his arms about his chest as he forced down the reprimand fighting its way to his lips. The brat was already in a mood and Bill didn’t feel like dealing with her pouting for the rest of the night.

 

A can was dropped in his lap as Pyronica trotted over and her tail finally took to wagging as he lifted it up to read the worn out label attached to it, thumping softly against the wooden floorboards underneath her. Their last can of potted meat. Bill was trying to save it just in case but… Pyronica loved it and just the sight of him holding it right now was enough to make her happy.

 

He smiled as his free hand came up to pet her head gently, “Alright, brat. We’ll eat it. But you better be on the lookout for more when we go scavenging, got it? I’m doin’ this for you.”

 

Jumping up onto her feet, she barked excitedly, tail wagging faster as she pranced happily in her spot when Bill stood up. So long as she didn’t stay mad at him then maybe sacrificing a can of potted meat wouldn’t be so bad.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter it might start to get a tad bit longer. I just had to set the tone for the story and add some back drop and get everyone used to how Bill and Pyronica act toward each other as a family. I had to cut this chapter down from 8k words back to my normal 6k lmao
> 
> I didn't want the first three chapters to be complete word vomit so I wanted fair warning before it just sort of happened, ya know?

The feather light scratching hadn’t woken her up, at least not immediately anyway, and had only forced her ear to twitch softly against the blanket as her head rested on Bill's hip. The two were currently huddled in the chair they used as a bed in the living room because Bill was, what she assumed, too scared to check the bedrooms to use them to sleep in instead. The quilt they used was wrapped tightly around Bill's small frame as his chest fell softly up and down, Pyronica snoring against the scratchiness of the fabric herself. She was a notoriously heavy sleeper when she wanted to be, usually after something exciting had happened or after eating a big meal (Thanksgiving and Christmas were always her favorites), and tonight she definitely wanted to be. It was subtle and small. Something light that scritched against some type of wood but it sounded far off so it was easily ignored for a chance to curl up to her master and fall back asleep in the warmth of his body heat and scratchy quilt. 

 

Their first week in the Shack had made her a pacing, anxious mess and every sound had put her on edge when they had settled down that first rainy night. She was a city dog who had lived in an apartment on what Bill had called a ‘campus’. These noises were new and they scared her, especially those damn things that Bill called **owls**! Pyronica was used to cars and buses, was used to the occasional dog or stray cat, but the sounds she heard at the Shack were far different. Hoots, howls, yips. Things fell far off in the trees and other things just seemed to wander far too close to the Shack for her to be comfortable with them. Bill had eventually told her that that’s just how the woods worked. Things happened out there that had no correlation to their current situation and she didn’t need to worry about it. Had she believed it had first? Hell no. It took her more than a few weeks to become comfortable with the place but eventually the sounds became background noise. Most the time now she barely noticed them.

 

When that scratch turned into a bang, however, loud and sudden, Pyronica sat up quickly with a short, protective growl coming to her lips and rumbling her chest. Her ears perked above her head in immediate interest as she stared off in the direction of the back door. The early morning sun was attempting to peek through the curtains that Bill kept drawn on the windows so Pyronica wasn’t able to reach them and also look through them at the same time. They already weren’t at her height and she’d have to stretch just to look out of them but if she ruined the curtains then Bill would likely be angry with her later. What if the noise was nothing and she went running through the house opening the curtains for absolutely no reason? It was the woods, Bill had said so, and things just happened in the woods. Right? Even loud bangs at the back door…?

 

When it happened again, Pyronica growled louder and sat up from her current position relaxed against Bill as her fur stood on end. The blonde hadn’t put his hearing aid back in last night to give his ear time to heal so he was sadly unaware of the sound at current and remained asleep, curled up in the quilt with his face buried in their lone pillow. Pyronica was hesitant to wake him. What if it was a person? Most people weren’t good now and they had seen what could happen when running into the wrong one. If they were knocking on the door then they could be looking for someone or something. Bill wasn’t exactly in the best of health to deal with a fight of any kind. Though she also recognized that if she didn’t wake him up and they found their own way in, using the roof as they did when leaving the Shack, and they found Bill asleep then that could also spell trouble. He wouldn’t be able to defend himself and she couldn’t fight everyone off. Not to mention Bill had told her just yesterday that they needed to be smarter about choosing their battles.

 

On the other hand, if it wasn’t a person then maybe they didn’t have to worry about them finding a way in but it still meant danger. It could be a bear or a wolf. Maybe they had been followed by one of those not-humans from town, like Not-Robbie from yesterday in the pharmacy. _That_ she knew Bill could likely handle because he had been able to handle Not-Robbie just fine, right?

 

With a small whine, Pyronica adjusted herself in her spot to face Bill, butt wiggling and pulling the quilt from Bill’s shoulders as she crawled up toward him. That would usually work but he of course couldn’t hear her so she’d have to jostle him awake as best she could. Her nose pushed at his shoulder hard enough to shake him and he groaned softly before curling in on himself to hide in the pillow. Pyronica scowled and nudged him again, a whine rumbling in her chest as she crawled to lay over him, adding her full weight.

 

“Pyronica, what the hell…?” Bill groaned, voice hoarse and clearly groggy. He rolled over onto his back, taking the pit bull with him who only whined in return as she gazed off toward the back door again.

 

Another groan left him as Bill ran his hands over his face in frustration, trying to wake himself up. The poor dog didn’t make a habit of waking him up like this so something must have been wrong but he was exhausted and waking up was hard so he couldn't tell what it was, maybe she was hungry. As he threaded his fingers through his hair, Bill glanced up toward the window behind him and noticed what little sunlight there was that was attempting to peer into the living room through the crack in the curtain. So it was morning at least, Pyronica wasn’t just waking him up out of hunger or anxiety or anything of the like. Something **must** be happening. He sat up, Pyronica quickly moving off of him and jumping off into the floor, and he swiped his hearing aid off of the skull beside the chair. The ear piece was placed inside of his ear canal, Bill wincing softly, as he placed the band around the shell of his ear and turned it on. Chirping birds immediately filled the silence and Bill sat in the chair for a time just listening. Whatever Pyronica had heard was close, it had to be…

 

Another bang at the door caused Bill to jump and the chair was kicked into an upright position as quickly and as quietly as Bill could manage. His boots were located near the brick fireplace and still just a bit damp from him cleaning the blood off from when he'd fought with Robbie but he didn’t have the time to wait for them to finish and the fire had long since died. So they were thrown on haphazardly, Bill almost falling over a few times as he’d done so. His heart was in his throat, pounding hard in panic as he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. This could be anything and Bill was already jumping to conclusions. What if they had been followed by raiders? Or any other type of human that could want to do them harm? It couldn’t be because he was omega, his scent was so thoroughly weakened by his clothing and the cologne he found laying around the Shack, he made sure no one could scent him from a distance. Though maybe they had come for the Shack itself? That gave Bill pause in slipping his jacket on, face scrunching up in clear confusion.

 

Why would anyone who wanted to loot a place like this want to knock on the door? This place was intact and if the door was barricaded then knocking would do the opposite of what they were likely trying to accomplish. So maybe it wasn’t a person. Bill adjusted his jacket as he stepped up into the hall and peered at the door, watching through the window there. For a moment all he could see was the tree line outside. The leaves were swaying softly in the gentle breeze as a few blue birds flew back and forth between the branches. Whatever had knocked had walked off so maybe they lost interest, whatever it was. Bill ventured closer, ignoring the feeling in his gut that said to stay put, and grabbed his rifle.

 

In that moment, the split second he had looked away to wrap his fingers around the barrel of the weapon, a shadow cascaded over him as something stepped into the sunlight. A hand came up as Bill tilted his head to look and it slammed an open palm against the wood of the door, jarring it hard enough to jostle the chest that kept the door barricaded. The figure was twitchy and it gurgled. Matted hair left an odd silhouette over the wood floor of the entryway as it swayed back and forth with jerky movements before its hand came up again to whack at the door with a hard, purposeful smack. 

 

“Wonder who you are…” straightening up to stand, Bill tilted his head as he regarded the shadow, making sure to stand far enough back into the dark so that they couldn’t see him or smell him. Unfortunately that also meant Bill couldn’t get a good enough look at them to see who they were either but they had long hair so maybe it was a woman. Build was rather stocky however. With another tilt of his head in the other direction, Bill narrowed his eyes at the shadow as he ran through a mental list of everyone he knew in Gravity Falls. It very well could have been a random trucker visiting from out of town. Most of them were heftier by trade as he had come to find. Not all, of course, but most. So maybe he didn’t know this one at all if he were lucky.

 

A small sigh left him as he slipped the strap of his gun over his his shoulder and head before he turned to Pyronica who was growling lowly behind him from the doorway of the living room. He smiled softly before walking over, allowing her to sniff at his hand to hopefully use his scent to calm down, “It’s okay, brat. Stay here and I’ll go take care of them, okay?”

 

Though she had whined and her ears drooped against her head, she sat obediently on the floor to keep an eye on the door. The shadow had moved away by now, the light from the rising sun returning and glaring through the window as best it could from above the porch roof. If Bill were really going to go outside alone then she needed to stay here and wait for his return. The only way back inside the Shack was through this door because they themselves couldn’t even find the ladder that they both knew had to exist to continue on using the roof and only the roof to get in and out. She needed to be here in case he was hurt. She needed to be here to act quickly in case he needed her. With the door in the way she had no idea how she was actually going to be able to help but she was determined _and that amounted to something, dammit_.

 

“Good girl. Now stay. I’ll be right back,” with a quick ruffle to the fur on Pyronica’s head, Bill made his way silently down the hall, adjusting the gun strap around his shoulders as he went.

 

The hallways were bathed in a warm dusty lighting as the sun tried to fight its way through every closed curtain Bill had drawn their first day here. He had been adamant about not being found and didn’t want someone peeking in through the windows. Every window, as far as he knew, was covered or blocked in some way or form. Every time they returned to the Shack he would check around the outside of the building for tracks or signs that anyone had been coming up here to check on the them or even the building in general and had never found anything. Hell, this had been the most excitement Pyronica and he had had since they’d come to live here aside from the occasional bear tromping across the yard or wild wolf or fox sniffing around. 

 

Bill rounded the cashier desk once he had entered the gift shop, the curtains that separated the living area from the store billowing behind him from his hurried pace before settling back into place. The area was more well lit than the rest of the Shack. For the life of him he couldn’t find curtains big enough to cover the windows and while he had found the tool shed out back there was a snowball’s chance in hell that he was actually going to get inside. It was locked right, an old rusted padlock keeping the door shut firmly. He could have broken in, sure, but what if he broke his gun doing so? And even if he _had_ found the tools, who was to say he could have found enough wood to cover the store front windows? Those things were huge. So he had reluctantly left everything be and settled for barricading the door. It held and he didn’t figure the windows could break too easily, being in the middle of Oregon near the ocean and all they were probably storm proof windows anyhow and that made them harder to break. That was his reasoning anyway and it helped him sleep at night. 

 

While he hadn’t meant to and would probably come to regret it later when the ladder **broke** from how old it was, Bill stomped up the rungs as he ascended far too quickly to play off as ‘calm’. Opening the hatch and climbing up onto the roof swiftly had Bill sighing out to himself as he was hit with the smell of fresh pine, a shiver running down his spine as he rolled his shoulders. It had never been that strong before or maybe he had just never noticed it. The breeze was cool as well but that was likely from the height he was at now more than it was from naturally just being so. His eyes scanned the tree line nearest him to his left before flickering toward the entrance and parking lot. They had never used the main road to get back to the Shack, always opting to use to trees to hide themselves because that was safer even with the amount of wild animals now. Bill didn’t see anything new, at least not readily, so he crawled to the edge of the roof and made to jump down, fingers clutching at the shingles of the roof tightly to keep his balance lest he fall and break his damn neck.

 

Then he saw it. It was quick but quick enough for him to stop himself mid-jump to dangle from the roof instead as he planted his feet against the siding to steady himself. A flash of silver was glinted and highlighted by the early morning sun. It stuck out obviously and he glared down at the object. A bear trap. It was positioned right under the corner where he and Pyronica always jumped off. There were leaves around it so it _had_ been covered up at one point but it wasn’t any longer. He wasn’t sure if maybe the wind had cleared the leaves away or if maybe someone had come and cleaned them off themselves but what he _did_ know was that this wasn’t a coincidence.

 

Hot, seething anger bubbled up in his chest and he snarled as he pulled himself back onto the roof where it was safe away from the trap. Not only could he himself have landed on it and hurt himself but Pyronica usually jumped off of the roof first while he closed the hatch before they left to scavenge for food or tools. She would have been hurt and there would have been nothing he could have done to fix it. He was smart but being smart had nothing to do with it when he didn’t have what was required to help her. Bear traps were strong and Pyronica’s bones weren’t as thick as his. While Bill could very likely break his leg falling into it from this height, Pyronica would **lose** her damn leg. A bear trap like that, polished and well kept, would absolutely destroy her. With that revelation he wasn’t too sure who the trap was for now. Himself or Pyronica. Clearly whoever had set it knew he was here and knew that he had a dog. To get to him they would have to get through Pyronica and they weren’t cutting corners. They were _hoping_ Bill would send Pyronica out to dispatch the undead at the door and that way she’d be dealt with and out of their way. Nothing would stop them from getting inside and nothing would stop them from getting to him.

 

“Okay, fuckers,” Bill growled as he crawled for the other side of the roof, “we can play this game.”

 

The only reason he continued to jump from this side of the Shack was because it was closest to the ground. The grass was softer here and Pyronica could make the jump without an issue. Just because he didn’t use the rest of the roof, however, didn’t mean he couldn’t. He climbed around the old ruined sign, being careful as he slid down the other side to the back porch where the undead was, their heavy footfalls forcing the old wood to creak as they stumbled and ambled along idly. Bill studied the ground for a time, looking for any more traps but found none. Either the person or persons had only the one or Bill had actually figured out their plan. He almost hoped they were watching so he could shoot them in the face personally. Damn, wouldn’t he enjoy that?

 

He peeked over the edge of the roof to sneak a look at the porch. The undead that had decided to grace the Shack with its presence had its back to him as it faced off toward the corner in a dead stare. Its body twitched and jerked as it stood, apron swaying with the motion. Her pink waitress uniform was stained and ripped, blood was absolutely everywhere and covered her entire right side. The wound in question was rather large and Bill could see the bottom rib poking out from between torn fabric as the beginnings of her intestines dangled from the wound. One shoe was missing and the other had a broken heel but upon closer inspection it seemed her ankle was broken as well. That must have been how she was caught. She had ran as fast as she could but her footwear had other plans and broke, twisting her ankle and forcing her to the ground. Once she was down and defenseless it was all over from there.

 

“Susan,” Bill spoke up clearly, watching her as she reacted to the word - not name because there was no way she had recognized it as her name - and turned around. 

 

Her movement was slow and unsteady and she stumbled on her feet before righting herself. Because she had no perception of sound, she wasn’t aware that Bill was above her so she had looked around the yard first, eyes scanning the trees and old tires for the source before finally catching Bill in her peripheral. A snarl came to her lips as she focused on him and she stumbled down the stairs quickly, almost falling on the last one as dirt kicked up from her shuffling pace. First she tried to make a grab for him so Bill sat up out of reach, that of which she didn’t like. So she moved closer to the porch and stretched her arms up again, reaching forward as high as she could on unsteady legs to pull Bill down but she stumbled backwards and had to use her arms to right herself again.

 

“Jesus, look at you. Like watching a toddler. Or a drunk,” Bill sighed out, brushing his bangs from his face as she tried once again to reach for the roof where the blonde was seated, “This would be funny if it weren’t so damn pathetic. Who sent you, darlin’? Hm?”

 

There wasn’t going to be an answer and Bill knew that but the question had been nagging at him since he’d found the trap. Not only that, but who had come behind them and uncovered the trap for him to find? If the leaves had stayed in place then the sun wouldn’t have reflected off of the smooth surface of the metal and Bill wouldn’t have seen it. More importantly, Pyronica wouldn’t have seen it. Things weren’t adding up and it was obvious that there were two forces at work. Two forces that obviously knew about him, that’s what scared him the most. Was one force working against the other simply to help him? Had they noticed him in town once and stuck around to watch over him? Or were they fighting against the other in order to get to him first? Push the other back and take what they wanted without much of a fight?

 

No use dwelling on it because there was no way Bill was going to come to any type of conclusion by sitting here and watching poor old Lazy Susan waddle around their backyard. He stood and motioned for her to follow, sticking to the edge to keep her interests. She followed as best as she could and Bill almost felt sorry for her. The poor woman wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box to begin with but she was lovable and the town had always enjoyed her cooking. She worked at Greasy’s for as long as Bill could remember, long enough for him to have recognized her before she had the lazy eye. While she wasn’t exactly charismatic she was a people pleaser and she knew exactly how to sell an item off the menu. Greasy’s was loaded thanks to Susan and whoever had gotten to the cash register of the diner first when things went to hell had ran off with a killing, Bill was sure of that.

 

“Right over here, darlin’. Just need you to do somethin’ for me,” rounding the hatch as Susan waddled after him below, Bill stooped down at the corner and leaned forward to entice the woman over and closer to him. Even if she cared about what was below her she was so thoroughly invested in him that she wasn’t watching her footing. Her steps were uneven and shaky and Bill worried for a moment that maybe she might not stumble into it. She was slow even though she was bound and determined to get to him but she was focused.

 

The trap snapped quickly as Susan stepped right on the spring lock and Bill couldn’t help but cringe, face scrunching up as he jumped back at the sight. Her bone snapped and broke the skin, shattering from the force the teeth of the trap had clamped down on her with. Blood stained the pristine metal a dingy copper before pooling into the grass and darkening the ground below. Bill had enjoyed a number of horror movies in his time but there was just something about watching it in person that churned his stomach. He almost wanted to vomit at the sight. It was worse than shooting someone’s brains out, which was exactly what he was about to do. At least she’d be still now and hopefully if he left her there for whoever the trap belonged to her blood would ruin the mechanism and they’d have to replace something.

 

He slipped the strap up and over his head before resting the butt against his shoulder and peering through the scope. With one eye closed he aimed for her head as Susan had lost all focus on him and peered down at the trap in wonder at why she couldn’t move. Her movements were still just as jerky as before when she had been standing docile on the back porch and she swayed more than the rabbits did but Bill took a breath and held it before pulling the trigger. She went limp and dropped to the ground in a heap, blood and brain matter oozing from the new hole in her head as Bill allowed the spent casing to shoot from the rifle and land at his feet on the roof.

 

“I’d say I’m surprised there was anything in there, old girl, but,” he started, unloading his gun to check his bullets before loading it back, “you’re not here to appreciate the joke anymore.” 

 

The familiar sting of fresh tears hit him and he blinked them away quickly, trying to shake the notion fast. He had been going to Greasy’s since he was a child and Susan had known what his favorite menu item was from the time he was five. She knew how he liked his coffee and usually had it ready by the time she saw his car pulling up in front of the diner. They weren’t friends by any means but they had some form of a relationship. Something akin to an aunt and nephew, always joking around even if it were at Susan’s expense. Things could always be worse and he knew that but staring down at Susan now and knowing that things were already this bad still hurt all the same. If they got worse then he wasn’t sure he’d know what to do.

 

As he pulled the strap of his gun back over his head, he took another quick, studious look around the tree line. He had a suppressor on his gun, sure, but that didn’t mean a human nearby wouldn’t hear it and know what he was up to. Whoever had put Susan here, whoever had put the **trap** here, had to be waiting. Or whoever had uncovered the trap for him was waiting. One of the two were close and Bill knew that so one of the two would come looking eventually. Maybe it was finally time Pyronica and he made tracks. While the Shack was far from a fortress, it was secure and gave them shelter. It was warm and out of the way of most things, not many people came out this far. Until now, that is. He still wasn’t sure why anyone had gone out of their way to do any of this but he wasn’t about to take chances. Their safety was now at risk and Bill couldn't stay here any longer.

 

Bill climbed back into the gift shop and closed the hatch behind him, making sure to lock it before sliding the rest of the way down and landing on his feet with a soft thud. They’d need to pack whatever it is they could easily carry with them and do it quickly. Bill pushed his jacket sleeve out of the way to peer at his watch to note the time, already making a mental checklist. It was only nine in the morning so they had some time. He wasn’t entirely sure that anyone would come looking for him yet anyway he just knew he didn’t want to take chances. There was no telling how big either of these groups were, most groups had at least more than six people and when they went scavenging they were always in groups of eight. They needed to be able to overpower whoever they came across and Bill didn’t want to stick around to be that person, not today.

 

So while he didn’t run, even though he sure as shit wanted to, he sped through the shop and into the living quarters of the Shack quickly. Whatever curtains he passed caught the wind that carried after him and allowed a bit more light through than he was comfortable with but he was in too much of a hurry to stop and check them to make sure they weren’t open. His first stop was the living room and he kicked off his boots and pulled the rifle from his shoulders all in one motion before doing away with his jacket. First before they could go anywhere he needed to change so he at least felt ready for anything. Pyronica’s feet pittered against the hardwood floor until coming up close to him slowly from the back door as she whined lowly and watched the omega pull a pair of jeans and a sweater from his duffel bag. Her tail swished softly behind her in confusion as her eyes studied him, flickering from him to the canned food for a time.

 

“We gotta go, Py,” his words were rushed and he was shaking though he wasn’t too sure if it was more from anxiety or anger but he wouldn't be surprised if it were both, “We can’t stay here anymore, Shack isn’t safe.”

 

Another much longer whine left Pyronica as she laid on the carpet once she was in the living room, her eyes leaving Bill once more as they trained themselves on the food. Her tail had stopped wagging by now and each time Bill looked away from her to put his boots on or pull his jacket on she would whine again.

 

“We don’t have time to eat, I know you’re hungry but that has to wait,” Bill grabbed for his bag and pulled it closer, picking up can after can quickly and dropping them inside. They didn’t have much but it was enough to weigh the bag down and Bill knew he was going to have a time carrying it.

 

A shrill bark startled him into almost dropping a can on his foot and he turned to face the pit who was now standing behind him, tail wagging excitedly and eyeing the can in his hand greedily. They could always hunt down more and it wasn’t like Bill didn’t have to grab more bullets from the owner’s office. His own eyes drifted down to the can of ravioli in thought before he sighed and picked up his pocket knife reluctantly. She must be hungry if she was actively trying to eat ravioli. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t need the energy anyway and he knew that and Pyronica was a fast eater.

 

“Here,” one the metal lid was popped, Bill forced the contents of the can into the bowl Pyronica used and sat it down in front of her. The pit attacked the food readily, slurping and smacking her lips as she ate and Bill had to roll his eyes, “Yeah, because it’s not like we didn’t just eat last night, shithead.”

 

She was occupied though and that meant he could get things done. While Pyronica was useful there were times that she got under foot when trying to be useful because she hated not being useful. It was a dog thing and Bill tried not to get mad but he usually ended up extremely frustrated so he wanted to avoid that.

 

While his bag was still opened and had room, he placed his pillow inside before grabbing the boxful of medicine and placing it on top, hoping that would save anything from being crushed by the heavy cans below. It was zipped in a hurry, he’d even stopped to make sure he hadn’t broken the zipper when his finger slipped, and he sat the bag off at the doorway near the back door. Thankfully he hadn’t brought many clothes to begin with because he knew most of his clothes wouldn’t suit any sort of end times and had settled for what would work. He knew that given time he could raid stores once everything died down and he had to fit his quilt in anyway. The blanket was swiped from the chair as Bill had to reach for his hearing aid to shut it off, Pyronica’s noises beginning to grate on his nerves, and folded the thing, stuffing it in the far end as best he could. Whatever clothes he had that he’d been washing in the downstairs bathroom were retrieved and folded as well, though far more haphazardly than he would have liked, and stuffed inside with the rest of his things.

 

“Okay,” grabbing hold of Pyronica’s collar, he pulled her over gently once the bowl was licked clean, “Stand still, you got a job, baby.”

 

When he was given Pyronica a long time ago the handler had told him that pit bull’s were a working class breed of dog. They enjoyed lounging and cuddling but they also enjoyed being given and completing tasks. He hadn’t paid it any mind at the time and went about his business. Until it came to walking the little brat. She pulled him from their house all the way to Gravity Falls town square and back. Sheriff Blubs had even made the comment that she needed police training because she was so strong. He’d laughed it off but his shoulder was sore for weeks. That’s how he’d come to own the duffel bag. It weighed Pyronica down on their walks and gave her a task to complete. She was considerably slower when wearing the duffel bag because she was under the impression that Bill was expecting her to do a good job.

 

Things were different now in the way that he was actually putting things in it now for her to carry but she didn’t carry it often. She had carried it once when they had left their apartment five years ago at the start and shed carry it today until they found a safer place.

 

The pit stood still as Bill adjusted the straps around her chest and middle, making sure the padding was in their proper areas so she wouldn’t get hurt or chaffed. He then attached the loop to her collar to keep her stable and reached over for the empty can to hand it to her, “Be gentle with this and I’ll be right back.”

 

It might come as a surprise considering he was fairly decent with a gun but Bill never owned one before all of this. He would go to the shooting range with his father from time to time and practice, his brother always opting for the more omega things like cooking classes, but he never actively sought out buying one. When they found the Shack and he started looking around in the rooms he felt more comfortable in, he found a doomsday stash in the owner’s office. Whoever ran the Mystery Shack - Stan, he had come to find his name was, the man had a load of clear and obvious fake I.Ds and passports all with clear and obvious fake names - was a firm believer in the end of days. The old man was definitely right but he didn’t take any of it with him wherever he went to Bill repurposed the rifle for himself.

 

So that’s where he headed off to now, pulling the black metal box out from under the desk and popping the lid. The fake passports sat staring him in the face, Stan the man plastered over each and every one of them. It was weird to see so many but Bill was positive there was a good reason. Had to be, right? No one had this many passports without having one.

 

The papers were shuffled around until his eyes caught sight of the small ammo container that laid hidden underneath and he pulled it loose of the papers, the small belt being caught on some of the passports and pulling them along with it. While he was sure if he ever found Stan the man would get a good laugh at being handed one of his fake and clearly homemade I.Ds, Bill wasn’t about to weigh himself down with them for no reason. The canvas bag was clipped over top of his usual belt and adjusted so he could still reach his hunting knife should he ever need to before the box was shut and pushed back into its place under the desk again.

 

It was time to go.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my longest chapter yet. You've been warned.

“Boss wants that bitch found, you hear me?!”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

“Shoot first but don’t kill him! And boss said to get that damn dog outta the way!”

 

A spent bullet casing popped from his rifle and landed at his feet with a soft clink as Bill watched the group down below from his spot on the roof of the small news station. While he hadn’t meant to take shelter in the town square of Gravity Falls, _the wannabe biker gang of ex-cons_ didn’t exactly give him a choice. It wasn’t that he had run right into them that had brought him here but he was actively trying to _avoid_ running right into them that had forced him and Pyronica to duck into town to begin with. The unsettling part was the fact that he could hear their bikes coming from behind him as they were walking down the mountain and that meant they were leaving from a camp somewhere close to the Shack. They had likely come to check on the trap and had seen Susan, noticed they could get in through the back door now, and saw he was gone. Bill knew that they would catch on eventually, Susan being in the trap was a purposeful fat middle finger and he had left her there for that very reason, but he had hoped that maybe they would have time to travel a farther distance away before they would notice or care. Seems they knew his patterns better than he had originally thought.

 

The idiot he had snuck up on laid dead beside him, blood oozing from the neck wound he’d given him with his rifle because Bill had seen enough brain matter to last him a week. Chances were, however, he was about to see more anyway. It wouldn’t take them long to figure out that one of their ranks were missing and it wouldn’t take them long to scent him. Cologne could only hide his scent for so long when he didn’t bathe in the musky liquid regularly and he certainly hadn’t this morning. He had been just a bit too preoccupied with getting the hell out of the Shack and saving their lives to worry about it when he woke up. Maybe he could put the dead guy’s jacket on. He was alpha, Bill could smell it on him. It reeked and he hated the smell but it would keep him hidden and that’s what he needed most right now.

 

Bill adjusted his position to peer over the sign once more, watching as the group scoured the area below him critically. Or as critically as a bunch of boozy bikers could be. Sandbag barricades were toppled over as men far taller and far heavier than he tromped through knee high grass in search of him. Every so often one would stop and sniff the air, attempting to get a whiff of his weak scent, before moving along and searching something or somewhere else. Cardboard boxes found in alleyways were kicked hard enough to bust or disintegrate them into dust, rain and bad weather wearing them down to almost nothing already as the men occupied themselves with worrying about his whereabouts. If he were quick enough he could likely down two or more. They weren’t exactly standing still very often, however, so it was going to be a challenge but at least they weren't a horde of twitchy undead. He counted nine in total and they mentioned a ‘boss’ so that meant there were at least a pack of ten alphas looking for him.

 

An odd feeling welled up in his chest and he swallowed hard, ducking down quickly behind the sign again as he held the gun close to his chest tightly. A _pack_ of **ten alphas** were all looking for him. A lone omega with a dog. He wasn’t aware if they had _always_ known he was an omega but if they had been in the Shack after he’d left then a quick sniff of the chair he used as a bed was all they would need even if his scent was weakened by the cologne he hid himself with. A hissed curse came to his lips as his head thumped back against the sign, eyes closing tightly in an effort to reel in his emotions. If he allowed himself to panic then his scent would spike and he’d definitely be up shit creek.

 

His father didn’t take him to the gun range for nothing. Bill knew how to fight back and he certainly had on more than one occasion. Those occasions were drunken _frat alphas_ and not prison alphas but he could do this. Bill was nothing if not a confident, prideful omega.

 

“Okay… Just dwindle their numbers, Bill…” straightening back up onto his knees, Bill rested his rifle over the edge of the sign and leaned in against the butt, peering in through the scope.

 

The first unfortunate asshole he saw was a big, burly alpha with a bandanna and an eye patch. If he wore the eye patch because he **needed it** or because it looked cool Bill would never find out, but he was going to be the first to go. He was currently sniffing around in the alley between the arcade and the general store. It was well enough out of sight that the others weren’t going to notice him immediately, Bill just had to wait for the idiot to stand up. His clothes were worn and old, had to be something from his own closet because the alpha himself seemed older and worn. Too old to be putting up with all of this, that was for certain. Well then, allow Bill to put you out of your misery, Old Man.

 

When the back of his head lined up with the sights of Bill’s scope, the omega took the shot and he dropped with a muffled thump to the wet pavement of the alley, face planting the puddle of dirty water he had been inspecting not but a moment earlier as the cigarette he'd been smoking sizzled out and rolled under a submerged leaf. Likely looking for any clues that Bill had stepped in it himself. Too bad, that was a waste of a good cigarette. Maybe if he had more on him Bill could pocket them on his way out if he had the time. With a flick of the lever on the side, Bill popped the spent casing out of his gun as he sat up to overlook the others quickly before spying his next target.

 

Another older gentleman - and he was using that term loosely because he didn’t think any of these men knew how to treat an omega - that seemed almost older than the last. His hair was more gray than the other alpha's and he was wearing a denim vest in place of the usual leather jacket most biker gang members wore. Maybe he thought he was being different or eccentric. Or maybe he just couldn’t find a leather jacket and thought ‘what the hell’, who knows and Bill didn’t care. Instead, he lined up his shot as the other lazed about leaning against a tree behind the pharmacy and out of sight of the others. He was trying to enjoy a beer. Or whatever was in the bottle he was currently nursing in his right hand. Bill had other plans for him though.

 

His head bounced back against the tree with the force of the shot and as he fell Bill could see the hole left in the bark as blood and brains splattered the wood. The casing popped and fell at his feet with the other two and Bill let out another huff of air. So far so good. He almost wanted to laugh. He wasn’t _going to_ because not only would that give his position away but it would also ruin his flow and he was doing a pretty damn good job, he could physically **feel** the pride blooming in his chest. Hell yeah, he was a damn good shot and these fucks were going to be sorry that they messed with him!

 

One thing he noticed about these alphas was that they were mostly brunettes and they were older. The youngest of them was the one he had killed when he’d climbed up onto the roof to survey the area, the one that currently laid rotting next to him. He knew like minded alphas usually ran in a pack but he didn’t think they had stuck around. Now that he was getting a good look at them, he was positive these weren’t the same bikers that went to the bar before things went to hell either. In fact, he’d never seen them in town before in his life. Either they had been doing some hard time in prison, he hadn’t missed the obvious prison gang tattoos that littered most of their skin, or they had come in with the hordes from California.

 

Maybe if he could figure out who the hell their leader was then he could understand what was going on just a bit better. He could understand how they found out about him and why they wanted him. Sure it could only be because he was an omega. They were rare enough as it was before things went to hell, especially a male omega, but now that the population had taken a hit and baser instincts were listened to far more often - telling everyone to survive and repopulate - they could simply want him to pass him around. Just something deep down told him there was more to this. That it wasn’t **that**. Alphas were scary by trade and anyone who was anyone used that to their advantage when need be.

 

If this person knew something about him that he himself didn’t, something that they wanted him for, then using a group of alphas to scare him or muscle him into doing it would definitely be the right way to go about it. Being omega, his instincts would force him to submit. He’d fight like hell simply because that’s who he is, stubborn and hardheaded, but instinct would eventually win out at some point. This couldn’t be just about sex, Bill didn’t want to believe that.

 

Staring through his scope again, Bill counted the heads before coming to another lone alpha wandering the inside of the bowling alley lobby. At current, he was focused on breaking into the cash register. A felon would always be a felon no matter _how_ much time he serves it seems. Bill himself had noticed that no one could get into the damn thing and had thought of trying himself once but had more important things on his mind. He wasn’t young but he was young **er** than the other two Bill had just dispatched. The alpha was tall and it was clear he had worked out during his time on the inside, those arms could easily crush Bill to death if the alpha tried hard enough. His hair was darker, almost black, and his eyes were a dark brown. Hell, this was the first alpha that Bill had actually been able to tell what his eye color was.

 

Welp. Long live the king, Mufasa. Bill took the shot and snorted as the man doubled over only to smack against the cash register, forcing a ding as he hit a few buttons with his mangled forehead before slipping off into the carpeted flooring below in a limp pile. An alpha close by had heard the commotion and whirled around to look over, forcing Bill to hold his breath and tighten his hold on his rifle. Fortunately upon seeing nothing the other had went back to looking through the dumpster he’d been digging in and Bill sighed out in relief, shoulders sagging just a bit. He hadn’t realized how stressful this was going to be when he’d first started and he could already feel the tension building in his upper back and a headache forming right behind his eyes.

 

He needed a nice **hot** bath. _Oh yeah_ , one of those with lavender oil and strawberry scented bubbles. Maybe even some rose petals. He hadn’t had a bath in so long, being stuck with taking showers, and hot water didn’t even work any more. Just the thought had given him a full body shiver and he’d almost groaned out loud. He’d **kiss** someone for a hot bath.

 

A small gurgled moan caught his attention, disrupting the fantasy he’d caught himself in, and he glanced over toward the alpha to his left quickly in confusion, eyebrows knitting together. There wasn’t any movement, as there shouldn’t be, but there also shouldn’t be any sound coming from the younger either. He was dead. Bill stared for a moment longer just studying the alpha, watching as the drying blood dripped slowly from the wound to pool onto the roof below him. All color had drained from his face, his skin a pale white rather than the healthy tan it was forty or so minutes ago. Was he sure the sound had even come from him?

 

Now Bill didn't even know if he had heard right. Movements slow and calculated, quiet so as to not signal any of the leftover alphas down below, Bill made his way over to the the other. His steps were purposeful and soft, making sure that he was taking his time with each one as he closed the distance between them, eyes glued to the alpha's form. He wasn’t sure how the undead worked if he were going to be truthful and he was sure there weren't a great number of people who did. He knew if someone was bitten then they usually turned, right? Once they were infected then that meant they’d be one of them. This guy wasn’t bitten or he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have been the lookout and Bill wouldn’t have killed him. That’s how the world worked now.

 

Bill was an uncomfortable inch away from him, crouched down to stay hidden behind the sign of the news station so he was closer than he wanted to be to the alpha. His scent was far weaker than it was before but he didn’t quite yet smell dead, _obviously_. There wasn’t any movement still and he hadn’t made any sounds since Bill had decided to wander over so maybe he was simply hearing things. He was stressed. This was a stressful situation and things happened. Sometimes a person’s mind could play tricks on them when under a great deal of stress and this could be one of those times. No big deal. Bill just had to ignore it and get back to the task at hand, that’s all.

 

Swallowing hard around the nervous lump in his throat, Bill pushed back away from the alpha and turned to head over toward the sign. He didn’t have time to deal with this. Bill was just overreacting. This situation was getting to him. Pyronica wasn’t up here with him and that’s what the problem was. The poor dog was hiding in the brush and leaves down below, waiting for him to return and he was here battling this alone. She wasn’t here to reassure him that things were going to be okay and that they’d make it out of this alive. Then he heard it again, another faint gurgle, low and guttural, only this time more feral. He froze in his place, his back still to the alpha as a full body tremor took him over. 

 

He didn’t want to look back because looking back would confirm that this was happening. It would confirm that everything he **thought** he knew of the undead was false. That maybe he didn’t have to be bitten by one to turn. That he could be killed by any random idiot and still become one.

 

Bill spun around quickly regardless to face the alpha, eyes trained to see the other already standing and positioned to pounce as he aimed his rifle, trigger finger ready to shoot. If this thing was going to reanimate next to him then he was going to be the one to attack first, he wasn’t going to sit idly by and let it win. Robbie hadn’t gotten the best of him, Susan didn’t get the best of him, and this unknown alpha wasn’t going to get the best of him. Then he sighed a huff of relieved laughter as the other remained face down on the cold roof and he lowered his gun, head hung as his shoulders shook with barely contained chuckle. He really _was_ hearing things. 

 

“Okay, I gotta stop fooling around. No more potted meat for **my** dumb ass,” the words were mumbled softly to himself as he turned around once more, crawling his way back over to the sign as he positioned his rifle on the top of it as he had done before. He had a group of asshole alphas he had to get rid of, he didn’t have time to be scaring himself with made up superstitions that no one even knew about.

 

The loud mouthed alpha who Bill assumed was second in command or whatever he thought he was was taking a break near to him, lighting up a hand rolled cigarette while leaning against a sandbag barricade just below him. His eyes were a milky white, like the undead, so maybe he was blind? Clearly the guy knew what he was doing so Bill didn’t have a doubt that he was still every bit as dangerous as the others were and he rode in on his own bike. Bill could be wrong though. Those could very well be contacts. Though, why bother wearing any in the apocalypse? To each their own, right?

 

Bill lined the shot up as the alpha blew out a puff of smoke, quite pleased with the taste of whatever substance was in that cigarette. The alpha had rolled his shoulders as his eyes slipped closed and Bill found his own sights wandering to the blunt in question. If it was weed then the blonde might swipe it later if it wasn’t covered in blood after this. He was so stressed he’d take anything right about now.

 

A small creak to his left caught his attention and Bill had almost looked up to see what it was but he ignored it in favor of watching as another alpha ran up to talk with the brunette Bill was about to shoot. They were both talking animatedly with their hands about **something** so Bill had to rely on reading lips. He could only read the lips of the one smoking the homemade cigarette though so the conversation was extremely one-sided. Their leader was calling them back. He wanted them to regroup and find Bill later because he needed everyone there. If only the other guy would turn around, dammit…

 

Another noise broke Bill’s concentration and he growled lowly as he’d missed a few words, hold tightening on his rifle in frustration as the sound seemed to get nearer to him. Now he’d definitely never know what the hell they were talking about! Some part of him was hoping that maybe he’d catch the name of their leader somewhere in the conversation. He knew the noise it wasn’t Pyronica because she was hiding where he’d told her to and the poor dog couldn’t climb the ladder anyway. So with a frustrated glare, he tore himself away from the scope to glance up in the direction of the sound only for his eyes to widen in surprised horror.

 

“ **Fuck** -”

 

The surprised yelp was cut off and interrupted by a painful gasp as the previously dead alpha jumped him with a snarl, pushing them both down to the roof harshly behind the sign, and Bill forced his rifle in between them. Spit poured from his mouth and dripped down onto Bill’s neck as he hovered over the smaller, his hands grabbing onto the weapon as he leaned over it in order to reach but coming just short. Bill pushed back as hard as he could but the alpha was far stronger then he was. Somehow being dead gave the person inhuman strength, Bill still couldn’t work that one out no matter how hard he thought about it. He grunted in pain softly as the dead alpha jabbed a knee into his lower ribs and Bill gritted his teeth in hopes of keeping himself quiet. The last thing he needed was to alert the alphas down below that this was happening. 

 

As the one above him leaned closer, Bill was forced to tilt his head away before the globes of murky spit fell into his eyes and obscured his vision. With his neck in view the other grew excited, snapping and gnashing his teeth with a resounding clack as his hands shook in their hold of the rifle. Bill snarled back, glare hot and fierce as he wheezed weakly from under the pressure of the other’s weight, “Yeah, gettin’ all sorts of cocky now, aren’t ya, big guy?”

 

In response, more spit dribbled down onto his exposed neck and shoulder, wetting the collar of his sweater as the alpha growled and gurgled from above. His knee dug into his rib sharply and Bill whimpered, attempting to push against the rifle to at least force some distance between them. Their bikes hadn’t started, he noticed. Bill hadn’t heard the turn over of an engine or smelled the obvious signs of gas so they were very much still here. Were they still talking? Just sitting around and chatting it up? Hadn’t their _unknown leader_ called for them to return? Bill was more than a little tired of this bullshit by now and just wanted to leave. He wanted to leave Gravity Falls and Oregon, he wanted to leave the **whole place** behind.

 

“Okay, cocksneeze,” Bill ground out between clenched teeth as he forced his foot in between himself and the dead alpha, planting it firmly on the other’s chest, “we’re done here. How about you tell your friends I said ‘hi’?”

 

With a hard shove, Bill sent the alpha stumbling towards the sign, using the force from his kick and a push from his rifle to send him flying. Out of instinct the alpha sent his arms outward to catch himself but there was nothing for him to catch himself on as he fell over the side and went tumbling to the hard pavement below. It took a moment for the blonde to catch his breath as he wheezed in pain. His entire left side was on fire and it ached, causing him to whimper our pathetically as he sat up. Leaves fell from his hair as he rolled over and righted himself into a sitting position and another groan left him as his lower back erupted in pain as well. Damn, that alpha really did a number on him.

 

“You okay, brother?”

 

The familiar baritone voice of the second-in-command wannabe blind alpha brought Bill back to the present and he scrambled for the sign in a hurry to peer over it. The alphas that were left, the ones he hadn’t gotten around to shooting, were slowly stepping up toward their fallen comrade who was laying in a broken heap on the wet cement right below Bill. He hadn’t moved yet but that didn’t matter. As soon as he smelled fresh meat he’d be awake and he’d pounce.

 

One of the darker skinned alphas stepped up first, bending over to get a closer look at the alpha on the ground. None of them had spoken a word yet and Bill watched on just as silently. When there wasn’t any outward movement from the younger on the ground, the alpha stepped closer and stretched his hand out toward the other in an effort to grab. Maybe he was going to turn the other over and inspect the damage, see what was broken in hopes of fixing him if he were still alive. Then he jerked and the alpha jumped back away from him, startled and surprised, to stand closer with the others behind him. His arms crackled as the bones snapped and he rolled over onto his back. The gunshot wound in his neck was obvious and visible now and the wannabe blind alpha hissed a curse before grabbing for his gun. Unfortunately for them before the others could react he had jumped the alpha closest to him, wrapping his arms and legs around him before sinking his teeth into his neck. Blood sprayed against the two alphas standing cluelessly behind him and they backed up into Wannabe before pulling their own guns and Bill knew that now was as good a time as any.

 

As soon as his hand wrapped around the strap of his rifle he was standing with urgency and running for the ladder as he slipped the strap over his head and left shoulder to situate the gun across his back. He took the ladder down two rungs at a time until he was confident enough to slide the rest of the way to land with a soft thud on the cement below him, gravel crunching under his boots. Pyronica crawled out from under the brush at the tree line as soon as she caught sight of him, tail wagging so hard that she couldn’t walk a straight line and he smiled over at her before meeting her half way. When he had crouched to pull her in for a hug she had jumped up to accept it gratefully but an awful scent caught her nose and she growled before cowering back with a disgusted look on her face.

 

“Py- oh,” at first Bill had been confused and stared at her almost offended that she didn't want to hug him but when he reached up to see what was wrong his fingers had hit the slickened spit coating his shoulder from the undead alpha that had attacked him and he scrunched his face up in clear disgust, “Sorry. Later?”

 

She huffed a soft bark, back legs scratching against the pavement shortly before she backed away from him. Hugs could wait. While she had missed him greatly and had worried her little heart sick waiting for him, they had to go. Bill was in agreement, making his way for the treeline and grabbing for his bag he had left with her just under the bushes. He had to remove his gun first to put it back on, adjusting it against his back to make the hold comfortable as the gunshots echoed in the town behind him. He checked his own bullets, unloading the magazine before reloading it, figuring he had enough bullets in the magazine to last him. It felt pretty light but they didn’t have the time for him to grab another one from the canvas bag around his hip.

 

“Lead the way, girl. Gotta get as far away from here as we can,” the gunshots weren’t letting up so that likely meant the man the other had bitten had turned and hopefully had attacked another one. If Bill was lucky then the whole damn group would be gone soon.

 

Pyronica snorted in answer before taking off, following the trees toward the main road. They’d only ever taken this path once before and that was to hunt down neighborhoods when they had gotten desperate for food. If the neighborhood was too far off then usually Bill didn’t bother but they couldn’t stay this close to Gravity Falls now. He followed behind her closely, only taking his eyes off of her to look behind himself to make sure they weren’t being followed. It was possible that the fight with the undead had caused a spike in his scent so the alphas _could_ know he was here now. If that were so then they could follow his scent in this direction and he needed to keep a watchful eye on all of their blind spots as they ran. He didn’t want to spastically check behind himself in a panic but he didn’t want them to be caught off guard either-

 

Just as the thought crossed his mind a sickening crunch broke his concentration as a mechanical snap resounded in the air. His heel erupted in immediate pain and he fell to his knees, dropping his rifle to the pavement below in a clatter. He cried out initially but forethought had him lifting his hand to cover his mouth to scream a string of obscenities into his hand as Pyronica skidded to a stop in her tracks to look back at him in worry.

 

“ **Fuck!** _Fuck_ … fuck, okay. Okay,” looking down to his right foot, Bill hissed at the sight of the fox trap wrapped around the heel of his boot.

 

Any small amount of movement only led to excruciating pain and he didn’t want to risk further injury but if he didn’t get the damn thing off then he’d be stuck here. He knew the alphas weren’t too far away but hopefully far enough away that they didn’t smell his more than obvious distress. With as gentle movements as he could muster with Pyronica hovering over him whining, Bill tried to slip his finger between his boot and one side of the trap to test if he could fit his finger inside far enough to force the trap off but as soon as his hand came in contact with his boot he cried out sharply and curled in on himself, withdrawing his hand quickly. Okay, so **extremely** wrong idea. And Pyronica wouldn’t move out of the fucking way!

 

“Py, I get it, fuck!” he shoved at her gently, forcing her out of his space just a bit, hands shaking from pain and adrenaline. He didn’t mind it usually and even welcomed in on the right occasion but he couldn’t stand it right now. Everything was sore and on fire and he couldn’t think straight. There were so many alpha smells that everything was physically and thoroughly  _soaked_ in it and he was overwhelmed by it, “Just give me a minute, okay? Stay there, Jesus…”

 

With a whine and melancholic tail wag, she laid down obediently on the pavement beside him, eyes flickering from his face to his foot as she herself tried to assess the situation, eyes scanning his boot as if she could see the damage through the leather. They couldn’t stick around here but Bill wouldn’t get very far with a trap stuck to his foot. Though if he were going to be honest then he wasn’t going to get very far with an injured foot in general. It wasn’t the best place for an injury like that considering he needed to run and that sort of required him to use his feet. He didn’t know what the hell he was going to do. He needed another person to pull it off but like hell he was going to limp over to one of those gimp fuckers and politely ask them to pull it off. It was more than likely the trap belonged to _them_ and they’d sooner jump at the chance to take him while they could, while he was injured and helpless, then help him out of it. 

 

Unless… Taking a calming breath as Pyronica whined softly beside him, Bill reached behind himself and pulled his hunting knife free from its holster with a swift jerk. If he could fit this in between his boot and the trap’s lip then he could wedge his foot loose and be done with the trap. He’d still have to limp his way out of town but it was better than being stuck here waiting around for one of those alphas to find him or limping around with the trap still attached to him. He was a sitting duck the longer he sat here without doing **anything** , prey just waiting for the wolves. If he could just grit his teeth and bear the pain then he’d make it out of this alive and hopefully in one piece.

 

The knife shook in his hold as he slowly leaned closer to his foot, panic coursing through his veins, and he had to take larger gulps of air to calm himself. It didn’t work, of course, and he couldn’t stop so he forced himself to continue. He was prepared for pain but as soon as the knife was slipped in between his boot and the trap, he whimpered and had to pause, his forehead coming to lay on his knee as he rocked himself back and forth. He didn’t want to cry. He couldn’t cry. If he cried then his scent would definitely spike and someone would definitely come looking. He knew he could do this it would just take a lot of willpower. Pyronica was right here beside him and he was okay. Once the trap was off they could leave this damned place and things would be even better.

 

He twisted the knife, having to bite down hard on his lower lip to stifle the cry before it could escape him. The familiar copper taste of blood bit at his tongue and he had to pause once again. Maybe this was a worse idea than just sitting here and waiting. Or maybe he was just insane. Slowly, he retracted the knife and pulled back, shaking his hands out to try and relieve himself of tension and adrenaline. He was a mess and he knew it and he was wasting more time than he was trying to. He needed to be able to concentrate to get this damn thing off.

 

The familiar scent of pine hit him but it was more concentrated than it belonging to just the trees around him and he froze. He’d smelled this before. Only this time there was something else there, something that he hadn’t noticed when he had smelled it the last time but he couldn’t place what it was. It was obviously an alpha now that he could tell it and that scent had been all over the place at the Shack before he had left this morning. They were closing in on him. The hold on his knife’s handle tightened as he stiffened in his place, breath quickening in sheer panic as his hair stood on end and every muscle screamed for him to move. If this man was with those others, those alphas from the town square that were after him, then he was already doomed before his escape had begun.

 

When a twig snapped at his left, the knife left his grasp faster than he could blink and the alpha had barely just dodged it. The brunette gasped, side stepping quickly as the blade sunk itself deeply into the wood of the tree trunk behind him near his head as his deep brown eyes widened in surprise before he huffed a shaky laugh.

 

“ _Well_. Some hello.”

 

“Get the hell away from me,” Bill snarled as Pyronica stood over him protectively, growling as she bared her teeth at the alpha.

 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” the alpha in question raised his hands to show that he was unarmed, fingers splayed in the air. His issued magnum was holstered in the holder attached at his hip and there was rather mean looking AK hanging from his shoulder. **Military**.

 

Bill stared at him for a time with narrowed eyes, as their gazes met, blue colored in obvious distrust. If this alpha’s scent was all around the Shack then that meant this guy knew him. Or at least knew _of_ him, “Like hell. I recognize your scent. You’ve been following me.”

 

The alpha cringed at his words, clearly unaware that Bill would have noticed but the look disappeared as fast as it had come, “Okay, yeah, I’ve been following you. You were my job detail.”

 

“Fucking perfect. Fuck off.”

 

“Kid-”

 

Bill pulled his rifle and aimed it at the alpha as soon as the brunette’s boot touched pavement and his finger hovered just over the trigger dangerously in a threat to pull, “You think I’m joking?”

 

“Do you even have any more bullets in that thing?”

 

For a moment all Bill could do was stare because he was so taken aback that this alpha had been watching him so thoroughly that he knew almost how many bullets he’d been using against those bikers. But once Bill had recovered, he aimed just a hair to the right of the alpha's head and shot, the bullet whizzing by the alpha’s face and cutting a few strands of his air before he growled, “ **Yeah, I got ‘em**.”

 

“Okay,” he huffed in uncertainty, chest heaving from mild panic, “Seems I miscounted.”

 

“Seems you did.”

 

The alpha stood silent for a moment before slowly lowering his hands, keeping his eyes on the omega for a time before trying on a soft smile, “Let’s try this again, okay? My name’s Dipper.”

 

“Well that’s a dumb name.”

 

“It’s a nickname,” he laughed softly before motioning toward Pyronica, “And this one?”

 

With another narrow of his eyes, Bill flickered them over toward the dog before looking back at the alpha, Dipper, before speaking softly and slowly, “Pyronica.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Pyronica. My sister had a pig named Waddles. We couldn’t bring him along when things went down,” Dipper lowered himself to the ground and held his hand out to Pyronica who stopped growling as Bill slowly relaxed and lowered his rifle only out of pure confusion.

 

When she didn’t move and instead looked to Bill for guidance, he swallowed hard before motioning for her to go ahead. He wasn’t sure what to make of this but the alpha hadn’t hurt him and was even attempting to befriend Pyronica. If he were here to kill them or sell Bill in some sort of fucked up third world omega slave trade then wouldn’t he have shot Pyronica on sight? He wasn’t sure what to make of this. Dipper _seemed_ nice and nothing in his scent led Bill to believe that anything horrible was about to happen. Not that he trusted the asshole any more than he did before but he didn’t fear for his life right now.

 

It was slow, but Pyronica waddled over toward Dipper, keeping her distance as she stretched over to sniff at his hand. She didn’t want to get close at first and Bill recognized that as her way to get to know the alpha without leaving Bill’s side in case Dipper decided he had a change of heart. Her tail started to slowly wag the longer she sniffed him and soon she was walking closer, close enough for Dipper to pet behind her ears. Little sell out. Anything for attention, right? The first good looking alpha to come along and she was all ears, literally!

 

“Traitor…”

 

Dipper snorted, both hands now scratching behind the dog’s ears as she sat in front of him for more, scooting closer to nestle herself to his chest, “Dogs have a great intuition and can tell a person’s intentions. I had a dog when I was little that could tell a good person from a bad person just from sniffing their hand.”

 

“Yeah, well…” Bill didn’t want to say the alpha had a point because he hated admitting that other people were right so he wasn’t going to say anything at all but the alpha had a point. Pyronica usually knew when someone was good and when someone wasn’t. If she trusted this Dipper then he likely wasn’t going to hurt them any time soon.

 

“So,” he stood with a small sigh, stepping around Pyronica who followed after him quickly, tail wagging with the excitement of meeting a new person that might help them, as Dipper walked over toward Bill slowly. 

 

At first Bill had thought he was going to take the trap off but when the alpha turned around to face the other direction and squat down expectantly all he could do was stare at the other's back, “uuuhhh…?”

 

“Climb on. I can’t risk taking that thing off with Gideon’s goons running around here.”

 

“You’re serious…?”

 

Dipper glanced over his shoulder  and back toward the blonde with furrowed brows, mouth opening and closing once or twice before actually forming words, “Yeah? I mean, I said it, didn’t I?”

 

“Damn, comin’ up in here actin' like a gentleman and shit. Next thing I know you’re gonna treat me to chocolate covered strawberries or somethin’...” Bill huffed but wrapped his arms around the alpha’s neck stiffly and hoisted himself up onto the other’s back, adjusting his position a few times to be more comfortable and being careful not to jostle his foot too much. He’d still winced and groaned from the movement, the chain having scraped across the pavement as he’d sat up to climb onto the alpha’s back to begin with, but at least he wasn’t being made to walk.

 

The alpha snorted again as he straightened, adjusting his own hold on Bill before turning to walk back into the tree line he'd appeared from and whistling for Pyronica to follow, “You’re makin’ quite a lotta demands for it being the apocalypse, kid.”

 

“Look,” glancing over Dipper’s shoulder to peer at the alpha from under the visor of his military cap, Bill glowered at him, “I’m hurtin’, haven’t had a proper shower in a damn year, and I’ve been craving some damn good chocolate for **three** years. Sue me. You’re the one who decided to play G.I.Joe, Pine Tree.”

 

“Pine- Okay. Know what? Not gonna ask. Call me what you want, just not G.I.Joe. Secondly, I could probably find you a chocolate bar if you’re lucky but if there’s any strawberries then you’re gonna have to fight Mabel for them.”

 

This time Bill snorted, tightening his hold on Dipper as the alpha began to climb down the small incline and out of the trees toward the back highway, “I dunno who this ‘Mabel’ is but if you’ve got strawberries then I’ll fight her to the death.”

 

“Speaking from personal experience, I’ll wish you good luck, kid.”

 

A jeep came into view and Bill stiffened a bit against Dipper from the sight. It was clear military if the camouflage paint didn’t make it obvious enough. He had called Bill a ‘job detail’. What had that meant? He was only being this trusting because he wanted the trap off of his foot and he knew he needed medical care for it. It sounded like, however, that if he went along with this alpha that he wasn’t going to be able to leave wherever it was he was going to be taken. While it was smarter to go simply because it was more convenient to get his foot looked at by a professional than to let it heal on its own, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Pyronica might trust Dipper, and maybe Dipper himself wasn’t that bad of a person, but that didn’t mean everyone else was going to be a good person.

 

“Okay,” Dipper huffed softly as he sat Bill down in the front passenger seat once the door was open before turning to face him, squatting down and placing Bill's foot on his knee, “I won’t lie, this is gonna hurt like hell takin’ this thing off.

 

“You got eyes, don’t you?” scrunching his face up in disbelief, Bill leaned forward to regard the alpha, head tilted to the side, “Didn’t you see me trying to get it off myself? I know it’s gonna hurt. But thanks for the warning.”

 

A laugh left the alpha, shoulders shaking just the slightest as he shook his head, “Ford wasn’t lying about you, man.”

 

“Ford…?”

 

“Yeah,” as he spoke, Dipper went ahead and began to unlace Bill’s hiking boot, already planning on taking it off to assess the damage once the trap was gone, “Stanford Pines. My great uncle.”

 

“My bio-chem professor…?”

 

Dipper glanced up toward Bill from under the visor of his military cap, fingers still holding the laces of Bill’s boot as he paused in untying them to try and gauge Bill’s reaction because the omega’s scent was so mingled with a mess of emotions that he couldn’t be sure what the younger was feeling by smell alone before he spoke, “Yup. One in the same.”

 

“Why would he tell you to look for me…?” Bill asked slowly, eyes trained on the alpha in front of him as he finished unlacing his boot.

 

“Just did. Guess he was worried about you, I dunno. You can ask him when we get there, deal? Now can I…?” motioning down to the trap, Dipper finally tilted his head up to look at Bill with an annoyed expression, clearly more than done with this line of questioning.

 

“Damn, crabby ass, be my guest. Sorry for asking, I’m not used to having conversations with my stalkers, okay?”

 

“I’m not a-” Dipper cut himself off with a sigh, a hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, already feeling a headache oncoming, “Okay. I’m just gonna do it. Keep talking if you want.”

 

Bill opened his mouth in protest even though he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say, he just knew he wasn’t ready to drop it. How dare Dipper think he could just follow him around Gravity Falls and force him to accept that fact then tell him it was over with! Tell him that he had to deal with it! Who did he think he was? However, the protest was cut off by a short cry as the trap disengaged suddenly and pain erupted from his heel and up his ankle quickly. It was so fast it took his breath away and he wheezed as he curled in on himself protectively with a pathetic whimper that was going to leave a bruise on his pride later.

 

“Damn, if I knew that’s how to shut you up,” Dipper grumbled playfully as he dropped the trap onto the pavement below before gently taking hold of the sole of Bill’s hiking boot in one hand, the other grabbing at Bill's calf softly.

 

“Suck a cock, asswipe,” the words were muttered pathetically but they dripped hot venom as Bill glared down toward Dipper with narrowed eyes, arms wrapped around himself tightly.

 

The alpha remained silent for a time as he pulled the omega’s boot off as softly as he could and set it off to the side beside himself, picking Bill’s foot up at the arch and pulling his sock down over his heel, “You’ve got quite the mouth on ya, you know that? Anyone ever told you that?”

 

“Everyone else said they liked it.”

 

Brown eyes flickered up to peer at Bill from under the military cap’s visor silently for a time, clearly at a loss of what to say, before looking back down toward his heel, turning his foot left to right in his hold. He didn’t move it at the ankle at first, that of which Bill was thankful for so he had relaxed and laid against the headrest of the seat so he could watch and catch his breath instead. For the life of him he couldn’t tell what he thought of the situation. He knew he didn’t trust Dipper, not fully, but he wasn’t sure he had a way to get out of going with him. Pyronica stood beside Dipper, her head resting against his hip as she watched over everything he did to Bill like a hawk, eyes narrowed as she studied every movement.

 

Then Dipper twisted his foot and Bill jolted, crying out and making a move to jerk his foot out of Dipper’s hold, the alpha only tightening his grip to keep Bill there, before glaring, “ah! Hey! You said you were gonna help, not break my fucking foot!”

 

“I **am** helping, will you calm down?” Dipper growled back, glaring up at the other just as heatedly, “It’s a hairline fracture.”

 

“No, you think, Sherlock?”

 

“Jesus H. Christ. I’m gonna kill Ford,” with a groan, Dipper sighed out in exasperation as his shoulders sagged heavily in defeat. Before Bill could open his mouth in what Dipper assumed was something else snarky, he grabbed the other’s boot and tossed it into the floorboard of the Jeep and fixed the omega’s sock, “Turn around and buckle the fuck up.”

 

Well, at least that was over with now. Bill continued to pout in the alpha’s direction as he reluctantly listened, handing over his bag and rifle before turning around in his seat and pulling the seat belt over himself and buckling in. The pout didn’t go away until Dipper slammed his door shut and opened the back door to allow Pyronica to jump in, tossing Bill’s bag in behind her and setting the gun down into the floorboards out of the way. Bill still wasn’t sure if he liked this guy. His eyes followed the alpha’s reflection in the rearview mirror as he rounded the back of the Jeep, only pausing to check the tree line for a few silent seconds - probably for those bikers - before the driver’s side door finally opened with a swift jerk.

 

The gun Dipper had hanging from his shoulder was sat in the built in holder located in the alpha’s side of the dash before he was climbing in himself and shutting his door back. A silence fell over them as Bill watched the alpha from the corner of his eye curiously as Dipper pulled his keys free from his pocket and pushed them into the ignition and the engine rolled over. Because of Dipper’s clothing Bill couldn’t see much in the way of skin so Bill wasn’t aware if the other had any tattoos or the like. He wasn’t wearing a military uniform even though he still had the cap on, instead opting to be dressed down in a pair of jeans, brown hiking boots, and a red t-shirt that was hiding under a dark blue hoodie. His build, however, screamed military. He was tall, taller than Bill was, and Bill had noticed from being carried earlier how toned he was even through his clothing. Dipper had carried him with ease, almost like Bill weighed nothing.

 

Aside from the obvious scent of pine, the same pine that had smothered the outside of the Shack this morning when he’d found the trap, Bill could notice now an undercurrent of coffee and rain. A crackling campfire in the middle of the woods, something cozy, and it made him want to lean closer to the alpha and for a moment all he could do was stare at the other. He actually liked the scent, believe it or not. There weren’t many alphas out there that he could stand the scent of but Dipper’s was different somehow and he didn’t understand it.

 

“What?”

 

Bill jolted as Dipper glanced toward him and his face heated up in embarrassment as he realized the other had just caught him staring so he quickly faced forward to stare out the window listlessly as the other drove down the lonely road, avoiding overturned car after overturned car before he spoke, “Was that you that uncovered that trap this morning?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“You couldn’t, oh, I dunno, **knock on the fucking door?** ” Bill threw his hands up in the air before scoffing at Dipper, “Could have just told me about it.”

 

“Would you have believed me? ‘Hey, I was just passing through and noticed someone set a bear trap in your yard. Just thought I’d tell you.’ Besides, Susan was kinda squatting on your porch at the time,” Dipper smirked knowingly, leaning back against his seat as he relaxed finally.

 

“So you knew about her too and you just left me there to find it all out on my own?!”

 

“I was told not to get involved and just watch over you,” the alpha sighed again as he glanced over toward Bill in disapproval before his eyes flickered back toward the road to watch where he was going.

 

“Well, you’re a shitty guardian angel, Pine Tree.”

 

“Oh hell, I liked it better when you were silent.”

 

“You mean you liked it better when I was staring at you because you’re a pervert.”

 

Dipper let go of a long and frustrated groan before rolling his eyes, “Whatever floats your boat, man.”

 

Bill narrowed his eyes once more at Dipper as the pair fell into another strained silence, the only sound in the cab being that of the drum of the engine as the Jeep soared down the road swiftly. Every so often gravel would kick up and hit at the undercarriage of the Jeep whenever Dipper had to veer off of the highway and onto the grass and dirt to avoid a pile up and Bill would try to use the sound as a distraction to keep himself from staring at the alpha but it never lasted for long. He wanted to figure out how he felt about this odd situation that he’d seemed to find himself in. He knew he didn’t trust it but other than that the feelings felt muddled and strange. They were diluted with something else that he couldn’t quite place and it didn’t help that Pyronica had unanimously decided that she trusted Dipper with her whole damn life. Intuition or not, Bill almost felt slighted that Pyronica thought Dipper was worthy enough of her trust. If Dipper was worthy of it then who the hell else would she trust?

 

This would be easier to figure out if Pyronica had reacted differently to Dipper, at least growled or backed away from him when she had sniffed his hand. Or if Dipper’s scent hadn’t been so welcoming and calming, hadn't helped him relax in a time of need. If Dipper hadn’t helped him, carried him, saved him. He wanted to scream and punch something he was so damn frustrated. Maybe he could punch Dipper, that would make him feel a whole lot better!

 

“You should get some rest and stop thinking so much.”

 

Bill turned his head to face Dipper quickly, face scrunching up once again - though he wasn’t sure what emotion he was trying to portray, “Why, so you can fondle me in my sleep, you stalker?”

 

“Oh, yeah, totally,” brown eyes rolling exaggeratedly, Dipper slowed his Jeep as he turned off onto the interstate slowly, “While I’m driving I’m going to risk our lives just to take the time to fondle you. And stop throwing it in my face, okay?”

 

“Oh, I’m gonna bring it up every damn chance I get. Stalker,” Bill blew a raspberry in Dipper’s direction before squeezing his hand down in between the door and the seat to pull at the lever to recline his chair back before pointing an accusatory finger at the alpha as his eyes narrowed, “But, heads up, if you do? I’m gonna cut your hand off.”

 

“I’ll definitely be keeping them to myself at all times, trust me.”


	5. Chapter 5

Gravity Falls, Oregon, June fifth, 2020. 

 

Crickets chirped their usual nightly song as a comfortable warmth of the summer night air settled over the small suburban neighborhood located just outside of the hustle and bustle of downtown like a blanket. A small pack of dogs could be heard in the distance barking and playing among themselves before they settled, moving on to bigger and better things for their summer ritual as frogs croaked in the nearby creek located just below the hillside. A few laughs could be heard somewhere along the gated street as the moon rose high in the sky, like a silent guardian watching over the neighborhood, as a small gang of friends hung out on their back porch, having a few beers before they decided to call it a night, wanting to get in as much fun before they had to turn in for work in the morning. A slight breeze rustled at the pine trees that lined the outside of the neighborhood and carried with it the smell of freshly mowed grass from the day’s early morning’s yard work. The typical things that anyone could find if they drove through Gravity Falls. Normal people doing normal things at the beginning of summer, getting ready to enjoy their two months of non-stop fun of vacations and visits to the local tourist traps.

 

Her bedroom was bathed in synthetic yellow lighting as a vehicle screeched into her driveway from the neatly paved road none too gently as it parked, likely haphazardly. The alarm clock on her nightstand read twelve thirty, the green light blinking on and off in the darkness of her room. She jolted awake as a car door slammed shut loudly, the yellow lighting dying as the engine cut, and she rolled over with a small, frustrated groan. It wasn’t exactly out of the usual for something like this to happen with who her family was or who her neighbors were. Sometimes her brother or great uncle Stanford might come wandering over, too excited over something to wait until morning to tell her about it. Or maybe one of her neighbors had finally had their fill at the bar and had decided to drive **themselves** home against their friend’s wishes and closed the door a bit too hard on accident but that neighbor had to be fairly close for how loud the sound was and how close the lights were. Either way, she wasn’t too pleased, being startled awake was jarring after all, but she wasn’t going to say anything about it.

 

When her front door was opened hard and slammed shut, this time not in excitement like she had expected of her family, she sat up quickly and grabbed for her robe, hand reaching for the lamp on her bedside table. The footsteps hurrying through her living room and toward the darkened hallway that lead directly to her bedroom sounded heavy and urgent and not a _happy_ urgent. They were rushed, frenzied. She couldn’t tell if they were Dipper’s or Stanford’s just by sound alone like she usually could and she hopped from her bed quickly, the blanket being tossed toward the other side of the bed from the swift motion as she went. The light was flicked on and her robe was slipped onto her shoulders as she herself raced for her bedroom door, opening it in time to run right into Dipper, her face almost colliding with his heaving chest.

 

“ _Jesus!_ ” she cried out in surprise, hands coming up to cover her chest to calm her racing heart.

 

“Christ! Sorry!” Dipper stumbled back, either to give himself space or to give Mabel space, neither was sure, but he huffed a panicked sigh before placing a hand on his own chest for likely the same reason as Mabel had herself.

 

“What- You scared the heck out of me, Dipper!” her hands dropped from her chest and one of her hands came to swat at the other’s arm before she was placing them both on her hips in disapproval as her eyes narrowed and nose scrunched up. She hated being scared! It was late and she had work in the morning! Couldn’t whatever was going on wait until she was awake for breakfast? She could even fix the couch up for Dipper to stay the night and make him some coffee to calm him down but don’t scare her like that!

 

“Sorry!” he was out of breath and he looked panic. In fact, he looked **distraught** and his scent was soured by fear. His hands were shaky and he looked ready to pace and had probably been pacing a good number of times already, if she knew him - and she knew him pretty well.

 

Whatever anger she had felt toward him had dissipated as fast as it had come as soon as she had noticed his demeanor and her hands fell from her hips. She took a step closer to him regardless of the sour undertone to his scent as her voice softened, “DipDot…? What’s wrong…?”

 

“Something happened…” his own voice was strained, cracking even as if he had been yelling for a long period of time, and he had to clench and unclench his hands a few times before he could work at forming any sort of words correctly, probably trying to find a way to explain whatever had happened to her, “That-that vaccine I told you about? The one they decided to weaponize? I... It-”

 

“Dipper…”

 

He paused again, gaze wandering behind himself to spy Waddles trotting up towards them from the kitchen slowly as the scratch of his hooves against the hardwood floor had drawn Dipper’s attention away from her for a moment, curious to see what was wrong, “People are turning, attacking each other. The whole lab has been compromised and I don’t know how much longer we’ve got to move. I’ve already been to the Shack and got Grunkle Stan outta there 'cuz you know how he complains about everything.”

 

“So now it’s my turn,” she clarified as her eyes lit up in understanding, a lump forming in her throat at the thought of what he may have seen or been through, her mind racing with mental images of what possibly could have happened at the laboratory, “Were you th-” her breath caught as tears threatened to fall, afraid to ask, afraid of the answer, and she had to clear her throat and look away from her twin before she could begin to speak again, “Did you see…?”

 

“Yeah... Yeah, I saw. I was there…”

 

A shaky, short, wet sigh left her as a few tears rolled down her cheek and the urge to pull him close to her and hug him close welled up in her chest but she ignored it for now because if she allowed herself to get distracted with hugging her brother then she wouldn’t know what she needed to do to get ready, “Was it…?”

 

“As awful as the movies show it is, Mabes...” his hand came up to swipe at the tears gently before he rested an open palm on her shoulder, only able to smile at her once their eyes met. He tried to make it as sincere and genuine as he could but she could tell there were some emotions lacking. He looked exhausted and she was so familiar with that look that it physically hurt her. How long had he been awake? Had he not had time to rest at the laboratory? Is that how bad this had gotten there?

 

Regardless, she tried her best to smile back and her own hand came up to cup his face, thumb running across his cheek bone just under his eye, worrying at the dark circles there that she had become so intimately familiar with over the years of being his big twin sister. She had to wonder if maybe this had been going on for longer than he was able to tell. The military had always been masters at manipulating and lying to the public and she had come to realize that quickly when he had joined. Had this been going on for days? Or maybe even weeks or months? Had they been able to contain it to the laboratory until it had gotten out of hand and now the city was in danger? Or the entirety of the United States?

 

“It’s airborne,” as if reading her mind, Dipper spoke up softly, the alpha leaning into her touch as his eyes slipped closed, a tired sigh leaving him as his shoulders sagged, “As far as I know, everyone is infected, the air is contaminated.”

 

Mabel was quiet for a moment as she mentally digested his words, eyes searching his face for a sliver of hope that maybe he thought he was wrong or severely sleep deprived before speaking up softly, “What’s that mean…? Are we-”

 

“ **No**. No, we’re safe, we’re still safe. We’re fine, I promise you,” Dipper’s eyes snapped open quickly as he straightened and his other hand came up to rest on her other shoulder before he was pulling her in close for a hug, arms wrapping around her securely, as his chin came to rest on the top of her head gently, “It just means that in the event that we die by any means, natural or not, we…”

 

“Turn…” she finished for him, voice muffled by his chest as she too wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, “We turn and we become one of them…”

 

“We become one of them,” he clarified with a curt nod.

 

“What about Ford?” as she spoke, voice only a slightly bit strained and raw with emotion, she pulled away from the hug gently to look up toward him, eyebrows knitting in confusion, “He works at the University and lives on campus, right? Does he know about all of this?”

 

“Yeah, he knows, he’d kill me if I didn’t tell him,” another tired sigh left Dipper as his hold on Mabel went slack before his arms dropped away from her entirely to give the woman space simply because he needed some himself. He adored her hugs and he was going to need more than just this one to feel normal again after what he’d seen at the base but they needed to hurry if they were going to get to where they needed to go on time, “Grunkle Stan’s going to get him. Apparently he has a theory that he needs to run by me? He helped work on the vaccine to begin with, it was his idea and all, so… I dunno, honestly, it could be anything at this point, it’s Great Uncle Ford. You know him.”

 

“Oh, boy…” this time it was her turn to sigh because, yes, she did indeed know him. When their great uncle Stanford had an idea, a good idea or not, he had to let the entire family know about it. Once Dipper had joined the military and had the means to funnel in resources that Stanford hadn’t previously had a way to obtain personally, he had jumped at the chance to help create a vaccine for some mysterious disease that the military didn’t want to discuss with the general public yet. Stanford himself didn’t even talk about it with his own family and Dipper, even working for them, wasn’t aware of what it was, he just knew of its creation, “Okay. What do I need?”

 

“Clothes, pack for winter and anything that you can hike in. If you still have that gun Stan bought you for your sixteenth birthday then pack that too, you won’t hear the end of it if you don’t,” Dipper snorted a short laugh as Mabel finally smiled back in earnest, both of them all too aware of how Stan was when in regards to the kids and their protection and safety, “I grabbed our tents from the tool shed back at the Shack while Soos was there with the keys-”

 

“Soos knows too?” Mabel perked up in excitement then, a small gasp coming to her lips as hopeful excitement blossomed in her chest.

 

“Of course, you think I wouldn’t tell Soos? _C’mon_ , Mabes!”

 

A small, playful punch was thrown at him and landed on his shoulder softly as Mabel gave her twin a lopsided grin, her messy bed hair falling over her left shoulder from the movement, “Look at you, a regular ol’ American hero. Gonna call you Captain America from now on!”

 

“Oh no. Please don’t. I got enough nicknames,” before she could protest or attempt to muscle him into agreeing - because he really did have enough nicknames divided between her and Stan, he had truly lost count over the years - Dipper whirled her around and gently shoved her back through the doorway of her bedroom before grabbing at the doorknob, “Get dressed and start packing some clothes. I’ll get started on packing as much of the food as I can, okay? Everything else has to stay.”

 

“Yes, sir!” Mabel gave her best, albeit tired, salute as her heels slapped together softly on the carpet and she turned to face her brother with a serious expression only to burst out into a fit of giggles and snickers when Dipper snorted at her and she had to drop her hand to wave him off before they wasted more time, “I got this, bro-bro! Just don’t forget my potted meat! I love that stuff”

 

With another laugh, far more genuine this time, Dipper shook his head, backing out of the room, “I won’t, Mabes, don’t worry.”

 

As soon as the door closed, however, the mood in the room shifted and the smile Mabel had plastered on her face dropped faster than it had appeared. It was always easier to make other people feel better, she was a natural at it by now, but when it came to making herself feel better it was so much harder. Was this considered a natural disaster? Is that what they would classify this as in the history books later for the younger generations to read about? How many of them would they try to save? How hard would they try to cover this up? Dipper would fight tooth and nail for what was right and she knew that but if the military got smart, would they turn on their own ranks? Would Dipper be killed if he tried to save innocent civilians?

 

A hushed, hiccuped sob fought its way passed the lump in her throat and her vision clouded with unshed tears once again and she had to feel at the air behind her just to find her own bed before she fell to the floor in a crying heap. She knew she was strong and she knew she could survive through anything. That was before, though, when she thought that ' _anything'_ would have been something like a hurricane or a tornado or an earthquake, not the damn apocalypse and especially not **zombies**! The apocalypse was something that only happened in video games and on television not in real life and not to her and her family. It wasn’t supposed to happen, it wasn’t supposed to be true and she definitely didn’t want her little brother mixed up in it.

 

How could she help herself and also look after him too? How could she keep him safe from people he trusted with his life, people he was trained to trust with his life? Everyone was meant to trust the military because they were supposed to keep everyone safe and protected from things like this, from disasters, and while she knew she could trust her brother, she wasn’t so sure they could trust the rest of them. Maybe there were some good soldiers in the ranks, ones that had no idea what was really going on just like Dipper didn’t. Ones that would fight alongside Dipper if he ever asked them to. But just as there were good ones there was an equal number of bad ones that would do the opposite. There were people out there that would sell out their own for a quarter if it meant getting ahead in life and the end of the world would benefit those types of people.

 

And the poor omegas… They were already treated so badly as it were.

 

Both her and Dipper were fortunate enough to have presented as alphas. Their great uncle Stanley was also an alpha and their great uncle Stanford was a beta. The Pines didn’t have to worry about what  might happen to them in this new world order that was bound to come once martial law collapsed. Mabel’s friend Candy, though? Pacifica Northwest? They were the only two omegas that Mabel knew because the fairer breed was so damn rare and neither of them were mated. How was she going to protect them from groups of alphas that meant to do them harm?

 

“Mabes?”

 

Dipper’s muffled voice from beyond the door startled her, forcing her entire body to jolt in surprise and she stood from the bed in a hurry to run for her closet in fear of getting caught. She almost felt like a damn teenager again, slacking off while getting ready for school early in the morning. They were already on borrowed time and Mabel knew this, she wasn’t aware of how much time they had specifically but she knew that Dipper was in a hurry and he wanted his family in a safe place before something happened and far be it from her to ruin his plans by getting caught up with her emotions.

 

“Yeah?” she didn’t answer until she was face deep in her closet, shuffling clothes and hangers loudly to pretend like she had been hard at work this entire time instead of wallowing in her emotions because she hated when Dipper was disappointed in her - he was it so often when they were twelve.

 

“You act like I can’t smell you from the kitchen…” the door creaked softly as his weight shifted against it, his shadow under the crack of the door moving along it as he leaned against the door and Mabel froze in her spot before looking over toward it with narrowed eyes set firmly in a glower.

 

This ass who dared call himself her twin brother.

 

“I can smell you, too, and lemme tell ya, Dipping Sauce,” all of her sweaters were pulled from the closet at once in one big armful as she backed away from the closet quickly and towards her bed, her next words coming out in a huff as she heaved them over to throw them onto the blankets, “no omega is gonna be impressed.”

 

He snorted softly from the other side of the door in amusement before answering lightly, “ _Okay_ , you got me there. Touche, Mabes. But seriously. You okay?”

 

Slowly, her hands left the pile of sweaters as they settled on top of her blankets and all she could do was stare for a time. Mabel wasn’t sure if she was going to be okay because this situation was more than she thought she could handle. It was so strange and new and it threw her so thoroughly out of her element that she wasn’t sure she knew what to do with herself or how to proceed. Her hands dropped to her sides to fist into the fabric of her robe, twisting it in her fingers harshly as she bit at her bottom lip before letting it go and lifting her hands to run her fingers through her hair in mild frustration before she could speak, “I will be. Just a lot to take in, ya know? It’s different, I never thought this would happen.”

 

Dipper grew quiet from his spot at the other side of the door then and the only other sounds in the house were the ticking of the grandfather clock that she had gotten as a housewarming gift from Stan in the hallway as the time whittled away and Waddles trotting around the living room as his hooves scratched against the hardwood flooring. Mabel sat down on the edge of her bed and she began to idly play with the sleeve of one of her many sweaters in thought, watching Dipper’s shadow from under the crack in the door. She could tell that Dipper wanted to say something but he just wasn’t sure what it was. Probably something encouraging or comforting he was just too awkward to string the words together to make something that made coherent sense. Nothing needed to be said anyway, they were twins and always understood the silence that would fall between them. 

 

“I’m almost done in here,” she lied, finally speaking up and trying to sound as if she hadn’t almost been three seconds away from crying her heart out earlier, “What about you?”

 

“Oh, _yeah_ ,” Dipper scoffed as the door shifted again, this time because he had pushed himself away from it to straighten himself up into a standing position, as if he had been hard at work stuffing whatever box he had managed to find full of canned food and was more than halfway done.

 

Mabel smiled at the obvious white lie, the clear worry over her well being lacing his voice. He wasn’t the least bit done, the same as her. They were both so thoroughly worried about each other that they hadn’t even made a dent in the tasks they had set out to do in hopes of completing them before things went literally to hell. An amused chuckle left her, forcing her shoulders to shake softly as her head rested back so she could stare up at her ceiling as if to set the grain of the wood to memory. Hopefully this didn’t change them for the worse. She wanted them to stay just like this for as long as they could stand it. Awkward, weird, strong, just as close as they were when they were twelve. If everything were going to change so drastically so fast then the least they could do was stay the same for a while longer.

 

“I’m gonna uhm,” there was a slight pause as Dipper shifted from one foot to the other, Mabel watching his shadow once more with a fond smile coming to her lips a she leaned an elbow on her knees to rest her chin in an opened palm, “ya know. Finish up.”

 

“Oh yeah. Wouldn’t wanna slack off, DipDot,” she snorted, finger tapping and invisible beat against her chin softly.

 

Like she was doing. She didn’t care anyway because she needed this. _They_ needed this. Whatever Dipper had seen at the laboratory before he’d left to gather his family and as many friends as he could had shaken him to his core and Mabel had almost not recognized the look in his eye, had almost not recognized him as a person any more. They had both seen enough movies and television dramas on the subject to know what could happen if they didn’t try to live as normally for as long as possible, instead of adopting a primitive way of living - savagely like so many would be prone to do she was positive of.

 

She was quiet as she watched Dipper’s shadow retreat from the door and she remained in her spot on the edge of her bed while she listened to his receding footsteps as he wandered down the hall to return to the kitchen. Maybe she should have asked him if she should have called Grenda and Candy to warn them, ask them to meet them somewhere. Mabel wasn’t even sure where Stan and Ford were meant to meet them at anyway and she definitely wasn’t aware of any camps being set up yet though if she were to ask then Dipper would likely tell her. No sirens had started to go off and she hadn’t heard any cars or screams. The crickets were still chirping and she could even hear the frogs that lived at the creek. The night was still just as calm as it had been when she had laid down to sleep at ten. 

 

The thought of Dipper being wrong and overreacting had honestly crossed her mind a handful of times tonight. It was Dipper after all and he had always been prone to flights of fancy ever since he was little. He was a conspiracy theorist and was honestly a rather paranoid person who could jump to conclusions at the drop of a hat. Or a thimble because that’s how quick he could jump to them because Mabel was nothing if not honest. Then she thought about what he said in regards to the laboratory being compromised and Stanford having intimate knowledge of it - he had a theory, remember? - so maybe he wasn’t overreacting? This was really happening?

 

So how could everything be so calm? Wouldn’t people be _dying_ already? Or at least there would be some sort of chaos _somewhere_ , right?

 

Mabel lost herself to her thoughts as she started folding her clothes and packing them in her suitcase, trying to think of anything she’d heard on the news that had sounded out of the ordinary or just downright weird. She wasn’t much of a theorist herself and she didn’t care for the supernatural so she ignored most things when it came to zombies and vampires and the like unless it was in a romance novel or movie. Now that she was thinking about it though... When she went to the cafe downtown, someone was listening to something on their laptop. Hadn’t a podcast mentioned something about a strain of zombie deer a few days ago? A hunter could shoot a deer but they wouldn’t die no matter where the bullet hit? And soon after that another podcast had started reporting odd attacks happening somewhere in California, Redding if she remembered right. That was pretty damn close to Gravity Falls too.

 

And that was also where Dipper was stationed for a time now that she was thinking about it. He had moved there over five months ago and was real excited because it was so close to Mom and Dad yet still close to Gravity Falls. Dipper said he could visit everybody without a problem and was so proud of himself. The alpha hadn’t lied either, every other weekend he was either at home with their parents or in Gravity Falls at the Mystery Shack. Until four months in. Suddenly he had stopped showing up on time and stopped calling on the weekdays before all contact had stopped for weeks at a time. Eventually he said things had gotten serious and he couldn’t visit any more. Is that when those ‘zombie deer’ started to show up? Now she wasn't too sure.

 

Her phone was swiped from her bedside table quickly, the charger pulled from the port as gently as she could manage in her hurry, and unlocked because she was determined to cross examine her train of thought with the facts before she forgot and it all escaped her but as she clicked on the internet app it froze. Nothing seemed to happen for a moment and at first she had thought that it was her _entire_ phone until she scrolled the screen and the app refreshed itself. So she exited off the app before force-killing it and reopened it only for the same thing to happen again. A frustrated huff was snorted through her nose and she gave her poor phone a rather nasty glare as she cut that internet app off once more, tapping the screen harder than she had meant to, and opened a different one which loaded but apologized as it appeared there wasn’t any service, even asking her nicely to try again later, and she frowned. She knew she had service, there was always service here. 

 

Unless that meant something was already happening. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her heart drop into her stomach as an ice cold fear washed over her. The phone was dropped onto the bed and forgotten as she grabbed the clothes she had picked out to wear, practically ripping herself free of her robe before her tank top went with it. Her bra was thrown on and she could only hope she had clasped it on right before she was kicking her pajama bottoms off and slinging them in the general direction of the rest of her dirty night clothes to exchange them for a pair of skinny jeans. A black tank top was thrown on over top of her bra before she was slipping a red plaid sweater over her head and swinging her bedroom door open so hard that it hit against the wall and cracked the drywall.

 

“Service is down!”

 

“What?” Dipper peered from around the kitchen archway to spy Mabel stomping down the dark hall, and he furrowed his brows in confusion as his hand hovered over the half full box of canned food with the last can of mixed vegetables.

 

“ **Service** , Dipper!” she repeated, throwing her hands up into the air, exasperation clear on her face, “I don’t have service and I never _not_ have service here! It’s never down!”

 

“Mabes, it’s just service, it’ll come-” the words died in his throat rather quickly as a loud shrill cry resounded in the summer night air from outside the house and both of the twins whirled around to look toward the screen door of the kitchen.

 

Both grew deathly silent as they listened to the otherworldly wail of the sirens blaring loud enough to wake the dead, which was ironic in their current situation, the cry echoing off of every tree, wall, and fence surface that it could reach, It seemed that every animal fled the scene that wasn't confined to a house or tied up in a yard and the twins spied a few cats jetting down the sidewalks as quick as they could in fear. The last can of food that Dipper had been holding slipped from his slowly slackening grasp and thunked to the floor as the tornado storm lights cut on over Gravity Falls' town square, illuminating the immediate area in a blood red color, the kitchen strobing from black to red as it blinked in a warning that meant death was upon them and they needed to prepare themselves quickly. 

 

Already the pair could see curious onlookers emerging from their homes to inspect what was going on as dogs started to bark at the noise. Everybody was probably trying to see why the tornado siren was blaring when a tornado wasn’t in the forecast. It wasn’t even raining. No one had breathed a word about what had happened in Redding or Orange County to the general public and the only other people in Gravity Falls right now that knew was Dipper and Stanford. Dipper had tried to save his family and told who he needed to in hopes they would spread the word but he had still been too late. He hadn’t beaten the horde that were wandering up from California and they were coming.

 

“Get your shoes on now,” Dipper turned and hefted the box up and off the counter, adjusting his hold so he could carry it under his arm and still have access to his other hand to open the front door, “Grab your bag and your gun, we gotta move.”

 

“Okay, I gotta pack Waddles’ stuff-”

 

“Mabel.”

 

The urgency in his voice stopped her in her tracks as she had turned to walk back down the darkened hallway to her room and her heart sank down into her stomach again. She shook her head in disbelief slowly, hair dancing across her back from the movement, as she read the melancholy look on her twin’s face, a hot, teary-eyed glare coming to her own, “ _No_. No, Dipper, don’t you **dare** tell me what I think you’re about to tell me.”

 

“Mabel, he can’t come with us. You know that. People are gonna see a pig and they aren’t gonna see a pet, they’re gonna see food,” his voice was soft as he closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to grab at her own when she attempted to move away from him, “You know I’m right. He won’t last a day in a camp, Mabes, not with people in a panic. He’ll have a better chance outside where he can be free.”

 

“You don’t know that!” the tears fell quicker than she couldn’t catch them and they stung her eyes and cheeks. The hand that Dipper wasn’t holding tried to wipe at them as fast as she could manage and tried to hide them, but there was no stopping them once they had started and she cried harder in frustration, “I can keep him safe, Dipper, please. You know I can. _Please_...”

 

“Mabel, don’t force me…” he squeezed at her hand reassuringly, his thumb running soothingly across her knuckles in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He hated the thought of Waddles being hurt because he loved the pig too but food was going to get scarce and it was going to get scarce quicker than anyone expected. People were going to panic and if they saw Waddles... “We have to let him go. It’s for the best.”

 

“Dammit…” Mabel sobbed out as her knees gave way under her and she collapsed to the kitchen floor, the curse leaving her before she could think. Her arms wrapped around her stomach protectively as she rocked herself, crying hard as the tears fell and wet the fabric of her jeans. She couldn’t even look at him when Waddles trotted up and snorted in her ear in an attempt to get her attention but she would be damned if she didn’t pull him into her lap and hug him close to her one last time. Her tears were falling all over his head and soaking the peach fuzz he called fur as she rocked the both of them and he snorted softly as he adjusted in her lap to sit more comfortably, hooves scratching at the tile. She was going to miss that sound...

 

“I can do it if you want me to, Mabes…” Dipper had by now sat the box of food down on the tiled floor of the kitchen to squat in front of the pair, one hand coming to rest on her shoulder comfortingly as the other began to scratch behind one of Waddles’ ears, “I know it’s hard, I’m sorry. You know if there were any other way I wouldn’t have said anything. I just don’t want someone killing him.”

 

“I know…” her voice was pathetically soft and raw as her hold on Waddles tightened at the mere thought of letting the pig go. While in her mind she knew that letting him go free, giving him a chance outside away from people, was a better and smarter option, in her heart she felt she could still protect him. If Dipper could just trust her to keep him safe then she could prove to him that it was possible. Even if there would be a whole group of hungry, angry people glaring at her, ready to tear her apart just to eat her pig alive like the monsters that would soon roam the forests.

 

Dipper had a point and she knew this, she just didn’t want it to be true. She always liked to think that there was good in everyone and that they would band together in a time of need, it was something that America had always pride themselves in after all, but deep down there was a primal need to survive and if they were hungry enough or panicked enough and she allowed Waddles to fall into the wrong situation? Mabel couldn’t follow him around everywhere and chances are once the camp was built and jobs were established then she’d barely be there most of the day to begin with. He was a pig and he wandered. The place was new and he’d want to find his own spot to sunbathe and roll in the dirt, his own spot for solitude. Eventually she would lose track of him and in that moment once food would start to dwindle some starving soul would nab him and she’d be none the wiser. Even if she would never see him again he would at least be alive and have a better chance of surviving by himself in the wild.

 

She sniffled softly, her face buried in the top of his head as she muttered a rather emotionally pathetic, “I love you, Waddles,” and held him close for a moment longer before finally and reluctantly releasing him. Slowly, almost painfully, she allowed Dipper to take him as she stood and she elected herself as the one to take the food to the Jeep, her fingers jamming themselves in the oval shaped holes carved out in the sides of the box for the convenience of carrying it quickly..

 

Maybe she would come to regret it sometime later in life for not seeing him off. It would be their last night together and she was never going to get this chance again, this chance to say one last goodbye, to ruffle his floppy little ears or to pat his fat little belly. This wasn’t a Disney movie, however, this was real life. Her heart ached something fierce and if she watched Waddles race off into the woods now without looking back? She wouldn’t likely ever recover and be the same. This is how she wanted to remember him, snorting around in her lap while she bawled like a damn baby because this same scenario had happened so often before tonight after a bad date with a boy that she didn’t mind this being her last memory of him.

 

Dipper waited for his twin to wander toward the front door and for her to slip her sneakers onto her feet, shuffling out of the still opened doorway before he was standing on his own two feet. He gave a sad smile down toward Waddles who snorted curiously and looked up at hims with round innocent eyes and a wagging, curly tail. He was going to miss the little chub. They’d had him for so long and had both babied him so thoroughly. Waddles loved people but Dipper knew Waddles could tell the difference between a good person and a bad person. In a fenced off camp there would only be so many places Waddles could go, so many places Waddles could run to if he needed to get away. In the wild, he could find places to hide. He could even find more pigs that have been let loose by surrounding farmers. As much as Dipper hated it, this was the right thing to do.

 

“Ready to go outside?” Dipper ruffled at his ears once more and the pig snorted, running out from under his hand at breakneck speeds toward the back door, little feet slipping and sliding on the tile flooring as he tried to gain some traction under himself. A small laugh finally came to his lips as he followed behind the pig, hand coming up and unlocking the latch as he slid the door open softly, “Alright, big guy. Go show the world what the Pines are made of, okay?”

 

Waddles didn’t waste any time. As soon as he realized that back gate was open as well, he was sauntering his little butt out the back door and off the patio with such purpose that Dipper couldn’t help but smile fondly. Mabel had always kept the gate closed because mushrooms grew near the creek and Waddles loved them. He also loved the mud that he could roll around in at the creek. That’s likely where he’d spend the most of his time but once he got bored and realized Mabel was gone he would move on, primal instincts taking over. It wouldn’t happen immediately because Waddles was so attached to Mabel and the thought had Dipper’s smile faltering a little as he watched Waddles disappear over the hillside but he would be safer at the creek and wouldn’t hear looters from there when that time came.

 

“Is it done…?”

 

Dipper looked back at her as he closed the screen door and locked it back with a soft and barely audible click, drawing the shades so Waddles wouldn’t sit on the patio and worry himself by staring inside before nodding shortly, “Yeah. He’s wandering down to the creek.”

 

“He’ll like it down there…” Mabel nodded back gently, wrapping her arms around herself as fresh tears formed in her mocha brown eyes once again and Dipper crossed the kitchen to meet her at the doorway quickly.

 

His arms opened and he braced himself when she practically fell into them, her own wrapping around him tightly as he spoke into her hair, “I know this sucks but he’s safer there.”

 

“I hate your boss,” she mumbled into his chest quite bitterly, the pout obvious in her voice even though he couldn’t see her face and she relaxed as Dipper’s hand moved to rub at her back soothingly

 

A small sigh escaped him as he laid his cheek against the top of her head, eyes slipping closed as he breathed in her scent, his own voice a soft bitterness as he spoke, “Yeah, I hate him, too,” the truth in those words hurt him more than he was ever going to admit. He didn’t want to have to hate his boss because his superiors were supposed to embody what was good about the military. Fact of the matter was that they just didn’t. Or to clarify, _his_ didn’t. His boss was wholeheartedly and quite thoroughly in it for the money and if he thought he could gain more from doing something, no matter the consequences, then he would sign off on it without asking any more questions. The man was smart and calculated but also didn’t care who he had to throw under the metaphorical bus to get what he wanted, in this case it just so happened to be the entirety of the world.

 

“But,” reluctantly he pulled from the hug, forcing Mabel to stand gently as he smiled as brilliantly as he could even though he was sure the emotion was lacking still yet. He’d get there, “We need to go. Stan and Ford are waiting for us.”

 

“Okay,” she nodded again, albeit more confidently, and stepped back to wrap her fingers around her jacket that had been hanging on the coat rack at the door before she gasped in remembrance and she almost jumped in the air before whirling around to meet her brother’s curious gaze, feeling only just a fraction better about Waddles' safety than she had before, “Grenda and Candy! What about them?”

 

Dipper’s own face lit up in understanding and he opened his mouth to speak, already comprehending the plan Mabel was hinting at, before it darkened in sudden realization and his shoulders sagged, “Mabes, we don’t have service. I don’t think we can call them.”

 

“Shoot, that’s right, I forgot… Where are we meeting?” her jacket was pulled from the rack and she slipped her arms into the sleeves before situating it onto her shoulders with haste, her mood already on the mend and confidence undeterred as she stared up at her brother as she corrected her jacket’s fitting just a tad.

 

“Oh, uhm, Greasy’s,” Dipper hadn’t meant to stutter as the statement almost came out as a question but he was thrown off, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he watched Mabel fix the heel of her converse

 

She straightened into an upright position, a strained, albeit sparkling, smile coming to her lips as she clapped her hands together and bounced on her heels, “Perfect! They have to ride by there to get out to the highway! Let me get my bags and we’ll go!

 

“Mabel, I don’t-” before the sentence could leave his lips, Mabel was bounding off toward her bedroom in a rush and he huffed a small sigh, pulling the cap off his head to run his fingers through his hair in frustrated worry. It wasn’t that he minded if Grenda and Candy came along it was just that he wasn’t too sure Grenda and Candy would be allowed in the same camp as them. In all honesty, he wasn’t too sure how the camps were going to work. Were they going to go alphabetically? Were they going to go by secondary genders? First genders? Worry began to scratch and gnaw at the pit of his stomach and he slammed the military cap back onto his head a bit rougher than he had intended to and he huffed softly to himself before yanking the zipper of his military jacket up the rest of the way to his chin as he stomped his way out of the front door and toward his jeep.

 

If they didn’t allow Candy and Grenda to come with them to whatever camp it was they were forced into then he wasn’t sure what Mabel was going to do. The girl could be **intensely** persuasive when she wanted to be and sometimes it was hard to say no to her, the key word being ‘ _sometimes_ ’. Just because Mabel knew how to be persuasive and knew how to get what she wanted with her father and Grunkle Stan, that didn’t mean she could work her ‘Mabel magic’ (trademark pending) on the hardened alpha military personnel. He didn’t want her to be hurt from trying and he knew that the men wouldn’t be deterred from doing so simply because she was the sister of Private Pines.

 

The door to his Jeep was slammed shut louder than he meant to as he sat down with a soft thud. With a loud, frustrated groan he allowed his head to thump against the steering wheel as he sighed out long and low. The tornado siren was still blaring and by now the residents of the gated community that Mabel lived in were finally getting a move on in packing. Unlike how he had instructed Mabel to only pack essentials, humans were creatures of sympathy and he watched as the wives and, on the off chance, omegas of the families forced their alphas or husbands to pack as many photo albums or toys for their children as they could. Cars and vans were packed with as much as they could stuff inside the trunks or in the backseat as everyone paced back and forth from their houses to their vehicles. Idly Dipper had to wonder what his own mother and father were doing. Were they okay? Were they packing or already at a camp?

 

His passenger door slammed shut as Mabel slid herself in and Dipper sat up, fishing for his keys out of the pocket of his jacket as she buckled herself in, bright smile still in place. Her bags were already settled in the back seat and he realized now that he must have been so lost in thought that she was able to sneak up on him. A roll of his eyes caught her attention and she snorted a laugh before she poked at his cheek with a chide of ‘ahha’.

 

“I still got it, DipDot. Always will be the alpha twin,” she blew a raspberry in his direction, settling into her seat as the engine rolled over and she giggled as he rolled his eyes once more only more fondly this time.

 

“For your information, _Mabes_ ,” he blew his own raspberry as he turned to look back out the back windshield, laughing softly as he turned off onto the road, “I presented as alpha too.”

 

“Oh man, no way!” her gasp of faux surprise almost made him jump and she laughed once more as she noticed - his muscles twitch under his clothing when he tried to hide it - bouncing in her seat, “You’ll make some pretty lil’ omega happy one day, I’m sure, Dipping Sauce. Don’t you worry.”

 

All Dipper could do was shake his head in response to that because he still wasn’t very fond of her playing matchmaker for him. It wasn’t that she didn’t have good tastes because she did and some of the very few omegas she had been able to find and set him up with had been nice, he was even able to score more than one date with a couple of them, but he also worked too hard. He didn’t take enough breaks and that was their main complaint. While he could text them back in a timely fashion and hold a conversation for longer than an hour, he also had a penchant for making rainchecks for dates because he was always working. His relationships didn’t last long and they ended up complaining to Mabel who also ended up lecturing him.

 

“Well, maybe once I build a farmhouse after the end of the world, right?” he joked, smiling over toward her once he’d turned off on the highway heading off into town, “Build a farmhouse and get a few chickens. Maybe a horse.”

 

“ _Awwwhhh_ ,” Mabel cooed softly, both of her hands coming up to cradle at her chest just over her heart, “Little House on the Prairie!”

 

Dipper snorted with another slow shake of his head but he couldn’t say anything to disprove of her words because, as odd as they sounded, the idea made his heart flutter. It was the end of the world and like it or not they would have to start rebuilding somewhere eventually. And if he were going to be honest with himself, it really sounded nice. A small little cabin deep in the woods surrounded by pine trees, a few animals, maybe somewhere near a pristine lake with the clearest water he could imagine where he could fish. Even if he had to live just by himself for a while he would be fine with that, he already was anyway. Love was slow and patient, it wasn’t meant to be rushed. If he was meant to find it then he would find it eventually and he would much rather focus his time on making sure his family was safe first anyway.

 

Greasy’s Diner came into view just around the corner and the artificial light of the sign reflected off of the surface of Dipper’s Jeep as he pulled in next to Stan’s car and threw his vehicle into park. A moment was spent between the pair to settle into the somber atmosphere as car after car pulled up after them, families still dressed in their pajamas piling in one by one through the front door for food and shelter while they waited word of what was happening. No one knew except for the two of them and Stan and Ford inside. They felt like two very important people allowed to hold intimate knowledge no one else was meant to know about and they weren’t allowed to tell anyone. 

 

It wasn’t fair to allow these people to continue to not know of the situation and both of them knew that but how were they supposed to tell them? No one would believe that the dead were walking and attacking people. No one believed the podcasts or the videos online. Who were going to believe two young adults waltzing into the Diner at two in the morning looking just as tired as them?

 

“You ready?” Dipper huffed out as he looked over toward Mabel with a tired smile, keys in hand.

 

She sighed long and hard as her eyes remained focused on the small crowd inside the diner for a time before she focused on him, eyes searching his face for a time before she smiled back and nodded, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

 

Both of their doors were pushed open in unison as they slid from their spots but Dipper closed his door first as Mabel paused, watching another small family as the mother carried their baby up toward the main entrance of the Diner. The child was swaddled in a pink blanket with elephants and circus balls adorning the fleece, a small pink beanie covering her even smaller head and the hold on her door tightened. Dipper rounded his Jeep slowly and leaned against the hood as he watched after the family as well, keeping quiet while the father, an obvious alpha, opened the door for the beta mother before the three entered and Dipper sighed softly.

 

“I know it sucks,” he spoke finally, looking off toward his twin as she finally allowed her door to shut just as soft as his voice was and she stepped up onto the sidewalk to stand beside him, “but we have to keep this to ourselves until they make the call to tell.”

 

“If they ever do…” her eyes met his, the glare as venomous and bitter as her voice, holding every bit of anger she felt for them involving her family, and especially her baby brother, in this mess as she folded her arms across her chest. The military were meant to protect their people not put them in this type of danger.

 

He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it because what could he say? He shared the same feelings. There were families that were just establishing a life here, children that had barely lived a day, and they were either going to grow up in this life or weren’t going to grow up at all. His eyes landed on the large storefront windows of the Diner and scanned the crowd sitting in the booths and at the bar. Children sat eating pancakes as tired parents sat worrying at their coffee, trying to figure out what was going on. A small group had even cornered poor Sheriff Blubs, trying to get something out of him, but the poor man was more at a loss than they themselves were. Chatter after chatter, Dipper didn't have to be inside to know what they were all arguing about in there.

 

Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, Dipper pushed himself off of the hood of the Jeep and into a standing position before motioning for Mabel to follow, attempting to smile as sweetly as he could, “Let’s go before Stan notices us and comes out here.”

 

“If he does that then we’ll never get in there. I need some coffee with a buttload of creamer!” Mabel straightened, likely trying to convey an air of indifference to the situation but Dipper knew better, "Susan knows how I like it!"

 

As soon as the entrance door was pulled and the pair entered the Diner, the silence and almost calm of the cool summer night air changed drastically. Multiple conversations were overflowing the cramped space of the eating area of the Diner as a small group of parents were determined to find any sort of station that worked on the television hanging above the bar - likely hunting down a news station - and another group of parents attempted to get information from Blubs near the jukebox. Some of the younger children were crying, their perception of something being wrong bringing them to tears as their mothers or fathers tried to calm them in vein, rocking them, or singing to them, or feeding them whatever sweets Susan had brought over in hopes of cheering them up.

 

As soon as Dipper and Ford locked eyes, the beta was standing and leaving Stan’s side, hurrying over to the twins in a rush. He pushed by people, barely even muttering a ‘sorry’ or an ‘excuse me’ and Dipper couldn’t help but cringe as he noticed the manila folder already waiting in Ford’s hand. Figures it would be about work. It was always about work. Ford ate, slept, and breathed work worse than Dipper did. 

 

“Dipper!”

 

“What’s up, Great Uncle Ford…?” the question scared Dipper but he had asked it anyway. It wasn’t as if the alpha wasn’t happy to see that both of his great uncles were here and hadn’t been hurt because he definitely was but couldn’t work wait for at least a **night**? Long enough for them to be given their orders and for the rest of the town to be told what they had to do and where to go?

 

“I have to- Oh, hello, sweetheart,” Ford cut himself off, forcing a sweet smile as he caught sight of Mabel standing beside the other and his arm wrapped around the girl, bringing her in for a hug.

 

While she was confused and had looked toward Dipper with an expression that told him he was going to explain this later, she had smiled brightly and hugged the older man close, arms wrapping around his middle as she accepted, “Hey, Great Uncle Ford. How ya feelin’? You and Grunkle Stan get here okay?”

 

The other scoffed, his arm dropped from around Mabel as he rolled his eyes before his hand came up to fix his glasses, “You know him. Never obeys the laws of the road. I’m pretty sure I’ve suffered more than a stroke while getting here.”

 

“Oh, boy,” Mabel snorted a quick laugh, rolling her eyes and backing away from her great uncle before elbowing Dipper with a playful wink, “I better go check on him! I’m sure he’s already swindling poor Susan outta seven cups of coffee by now.”

 

“Just five but he’s working on it,” Ford corrected with a smile as he moved out of her way. 

 

The pair slipped into silence as the conversations around them grew sevenfold and Mabel disappeared into the crowd in search of Stan. Dipper eyed Ford as the older watched after Mabel, his eyes flickering from the beta to the folder for a time as if he could see its contents through Ford’s hand. Neither of them wanted to talk business in front of Mabel but Dipper wasn’t **opposed** to talking about it in front of her and wouldn’t have forced her to leave had she stuck around. Ford, however, actively had cut himself off so she wouldn’t listen in and had even distracted her by diverting her attention to Stan.

 

“So, what’s in the folder…?”

 

“I have a theory,” Ford spoke lowly as he wandered off toward an empty booth, opening the folder and slipping into a seat and scooting toward the window to distance himself as far away from wandering eyes as he could.

 

Dipper didn’t follow right off and instead glanced around at the crowd surrounding them. He didn’t mind talking about this in front of Mabel but he didn’t want the wrong person hearing them either. His steps were soft as he finally decided to join his great uncle at the booth and he sat across from him instead of beside, leaning over the table to get a better look at the papers, “And this theory is…?”

 

“For the virus to infect the host, it needs a healthy brain, right?” as he spoke, Ford shuffled through paper after paper quickly and Dipper realized fast that this was a student record from the university that Ford worked at.

 

His eyes narrowed dangerously up at Ford again, his voice a rough snarl, “Ford, what is this…?”

 

“One of my students. Bill Cipher. I need him,” finally, Ford pulled a picture free, a student I.D, and Ford practically shoved it into Dipper’s hands with force from how excited he was.

 

At first all Dipper could do was simply stare at Ford in a confused, awed silence because he wasn’t quite understanding what Ford was getting at. The beta was damn near shaking with how excited he was, all happy smiles as he nodded for Dipper to read the I.D, and he obviously wanted Dipper’s opinion about this. So Dipper slowly allowed himself to glance down at the badge, eyes scanning over the words beside the picture. Bill was only nineteen years old and that alone had Dipper swallowing hard passed the growing nervous lump in his throat. He was so young, too young for whatever stupidity Ford was thinking about. The I.D also stated he had a service animal so he was disabled.

 

A long and anxious, albeit rather angry, sigh left Dipper as he glared up at Ford from under the visor of his military cap, “What do you need me to do exactly?”

 

“Find him. Watch over him. Don’t let him get hurt. I need to know how he survives through this.”

 

“Oh! A labrat-” Dipper cut himself off, dropping the I.D in anger as his hands came up to card into his hair, military cap dropping off of his head and onto the table over top of the badge from the movement, “I swear to Jesus Christ…”

 

“Not a labrat,” Ford corrected, leaning forward as he swiped the badge out from under the hat to replace it back in the file, fixing the pages as he went, “At least, not yet.”

 

Dipper looked up then, quick enough to crick his neck but the wince was suppressed as he stared at Ford in something akin to horror, “What the hell do you mean _not yet_? Don’t you think this is getting a little outta hand? This is **done**. We don’t have a lab anymore, Ford.”

 

The beta sitting across from him paused in closing the file, his own eyes coming up to meet Diper’s stare, though his was thankfully far more calm than Dipper’s was. A short sigh was huffed through his nose and Ford pursed his lips for a time as the file was softly shut before Ford laced his fingers together over top of it to lean forward and stare at Dipper evenly, “I know that, Dipper, more than anyone. We ruined things over there and now it’s up to _us_ , as humans, to fix it. We have to try and I need to follow this theory. Okay? I need you to help me.”

 

“I swear to God, if I bring him to you and you-”

 

“I’m not going to hurt him, Dipper,” Ford corrected quickly, his hand reaching out to rest over Dipper’s forearm in what he hoped was comforting, “I promise. I wouldn’t hurt my own students.”

 

A small frustrated growl left Dipper and he shook his head as he leaned back with a large sigh. He didn’t want to agree because he wasn’t exactly being given a lot of information about what was going on. Ford could have anything in mind for this kid and none of it good. Bill 'wasn’t a labrat yet', what did that mean? What theory did Ford have? What was Bill to all of this? How did he play a part in this that could help them? And Dipper still couldn’t get over how young this kid was…

 

“There’s my military man!”

 

Stan’s voice broke him from his thoughts and he glanced up as Mabel escorted the older man over toward their table with a smile near to bursting with fondness. He smiled back at the pair and slipped from the booth, standing and holding his arms out to accept the hug Stan was no doubt about to pull him into when a scream from outside pulled everyone’s attentions toward the door. Though Blubs had run over toward the front entrance with his gun drawn, Dipper pushed Stan and Mabel to stand behind him as his own was pulled from its holster and cocked. 

 

An early morning fog had settled outside as it struck three so no one could exactly see what was happening. Car lights would illuminate the road as they would pass by but they were so quick that they wouldn’t shed any light on what everyone needed or wanted to see. People began to crowd at the windows, looking for the source even though Blubs, and by now Durland, had began to order people back from them out of caution. The scream had seemed to echo and bounce around the Diner. No one was sure of where the source had come from or who it was, some people said it could have came from the front and others said it sounded like it came from the back but nobody wanted to volunteer to check.

 

“Okay, okay, I got a plan,” Blubs spoke up first, motioning for Durland to come closer, “You check the back.”

 

“What??” his entire body seemed to sag in defeat, his face dropping immediately as his eyes widened in clear betrayal, “Why do I gotta check the back?”

 

“You gotta a badge, don’tcha??”

 

“So do you!”

 

“Well, I’m the Sheriff!”

 

“Exactly!”

 

“You ain’t seen The Walking Dead?” crossing his arms about his chest rather matter-of-factly, Blubs cocked a hip as he raised a brow at Durland, “The Sheriff always survives.”

 

“Oh, dammit…!”

 

With a lone stomp of his foot, Durland pulled his gun from his holster in a huff and quickly made his way around the counter of the Diner but now that he was back there he paused to look around at everyone. The panic was obvious on his face and Dipper stiffened momentarily when their eyes locked. He could have gone back there fine. Dipper was trained for things like this but his family was here and he needed to protect them. That was selfish and he knew how that sounded, but if he risked his life doing something stupid then that would risk the lives of his family as well. Durland gave a pathetic sigh as he turned away from the crowd and continued his trek, albeit slower this time and he saddled up to the door that led to the kitchen.

 

“Hey! Uuhh… Susan? You uh… You back there, sweetheart?” Durland paused to give the woman time to answer, leaning in to listen for her but when there wasn’t one he scooted closer to the door and tried once more, “Susan, it’s Officer Durland! You okay back there?”

 

Something, a pot or a pan, fell from its place and the door swung open before anyone could react as a man in a green windbreak tore through the opening and lunged at Durland. The men stumbled toward the counter, Durland’s back colliding harshly with the metal as the man hissed in pain. Blubs was the first to act, gun in hand as he rounded the counter as fast as the heavyset man could and pointing the barrel of his pistol at the offender.

 

Blood and spit dripped from his teeth as Durland attempted to fight the man off and the crowd pushed themselves as far back toward the windows as they could. Children and babies began to cry loudly, mothers attempting to shush them as best they could given the current situation. The man pinning Durland to the counter snarled as his teeth gnashed together and they hovered dangerously close to the man’s neck.

 

“Freeze!” Blubs hit the safety of his gun and aimed, prepared to shoot if the man didn’t move.

 

“I can’t hold him off much longer, Blubs!”

 

“Dammit,” pointing down towards the man’s side, Blubs shot, the bullet whizzing under Durland’s elbow and lodging between the man’s third and fourth rib.

 

“Blubs, he ain’t stoppin’!!”

 

The man stumbled back into the kitchen as another bullet caught his shoulder from in front of the counter and he lost his hold on Durland, Dipper stepping closer through the crowd with his gun cocked, “Durland, move.”

 

A grateful sigh left the officer as he sped for Blubs, rounding the Sheriff and the counter entirely to distance himself from the kitchen before cowering behind the jukebox. Blubs wasn’t far behind, moving to stand in front of the other almost protectively as he watched the unknown man stumbling on the other stand of the counter. As Dipper lined his shot, he squeezed his trigger but paused as a shadow behind the other caught his eye. It was strange and moved oddly, different from the others he had seen at the laboratory. Maybe it was hurt? He lowered his gun to see better, the man stumbling and bumping into the counter hard enough to fall over it as Susan stumbled out through the opened doorway of the kitchen.

 

The blood covering her uniform was fresh, just as the blood covering the man’s mouth was and the Diner fell into a collective silence as they watched the pair attempt to climb over the counter to grab at Dipper. He couldn’t kill her. Just staring at her now made his eyes sting with unshed tears, emotions of childhood summers past welling up in his chest. The anger he felt was enough for him to bring his magnum back up and aim, eying the other through his sights and shooting him between the eyes. Blood sprayed across the counter and wall as brain dripped from the hole onto the floor and Dipper snarled at him before lowering his gun to look back at the crowd one last time before his eyes fell on his family.

 

“Let’s go.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make a few clarifications, Dipper is older than Bill. in the year 2020 at the start of the end Dipper was thirty-two when Bill was nineteen, add five years to the present now and Dipper is thirty-six while Bill is twenty-four. Just wanted too make sure no one is confused!

“Well, I got this but it’s not much…” Wendy rolled back over the cracked tiled flooring and toward Dipper in her gray office chair with a splint in surprisingly good condition resting in her outstretched palm. She allowed Dipper to take it out of her hands as she watched the alpha turn it over in his own to look it over critically before she was speaking again, eyes flickering over to Bill with a casual shrug of her shoulders, “It’s better than trying to find the things we’d need to make a cast or forcing you to stay in bed. Or damn you to crutches for three months. Don't see that going over well."

 

Bill, who had sat rather stoically on the hospital table since Dipper had put him there, had yet to say anything mostly out of shock. He had been too busy staring at the red head in a mixture of surprise and confusion as her and Dipper held such casual conversation he would have assumed them long time friends if her age and the fact that her and Bill had gone to school together didn’t give it away. Since he had found Robbie in the pharmacy he had assumed the rest of the group had ended up in pretty much the same manner as him. When he locked eyes with Wendy waltzing around the corner of  the lobby to guide the into a room, however, he'd gone mute ever since. His mouth hung open like a fish out of water for longer than he would have liked to admit before any sort of noise had actually came out and when it did it was a long confused hum. He quickly had to clear his throat to force it away before muttering softly, voice almost distracted, “You’re a doctor.”

 

A small snort escaped the girl as her left arm flung over to rest across the back of her old chair when she leaned against the cushion, head tilting to the side as she regarded Bill in amusement, “Yup, I am indeed a doctor. I mean, I didn’t finish college or anything - you should know, you were there - but I’m damn good at what I do. Best this shithole has anyway.”

 

“Hey,” pointing a finger at her in warning, Dipper spoke up as he held the splint out for the younger alpha to take, “that might be true but we’re better off than most other camps around here. Don’t call us that.”

 

Wendy rolled her eyes playfully before swiping the splint out of his hand with force as if she were offended, “ _Yes Dad_ , I’m sorry,” and she rolled off to sit in front of Bill who had stiffened considerably, “So, Dipper mentioned ear drops the other day. Got an ear infection?”

 

His eyes narrowed up at Dipper as a small growl came to his lips, the alpha in question averting his own mocha colored eyes and ducking away into the corner. Mentioned them the other day, did he? So he had watched Bill in the pharmacy that day and allowed him to be attacked by Robbie, had he? Bill wanted to say something, a number of things, but he decided to drop it in favor of the prospect of actually receiving decent medical care. While it still greatly rubbed him the wrong way that Dipper sat on his hands and watched him struggle for however long he had been watching, had allowed Bill to barely scrape by knowing he had the supplies to spare, Bill knew when to bite his tongue. For the time being anyway. He’d give the other a piece of his mind in the very near future, “Yeah. I get ‘em a lot.”

 

“Oh yeah,” realization hit her as Wendy sat up quickly in her seat from pulling Bill’s sock off, back straightening as a gentle gasp came to her lips, and she smiled up at Bill as she motioned to her own ears, “You got that thing, right? The hearing aid? Weren’t you born deaf or something like that?”

 

A surprised huff of laughter escaped him and he smiled down from his spot on the exam table at Wendy before shaking his head almost in disbelief, hair falling into his eyes from the movement, “I’m honestly surprised you remember me telling you about that but yeah. I had this huge ear infection in both ears when I was born and then I lost my hearing. I had it for a while before that, though.”

 

“That bites,” she huffed in response, pausing to lean forward and wrap the splint around Bill’s ankle, sweetly muttering a few words of apologies when the omega would flinch in her hold, “Don’t those things take batteries, though? How have you been surviving out there with those things?”

 

_ I don’t kno w, ask Dipper. _

 

He had almost barked those words as his gaze fell on the brunette quicker than he could stop it but he was lucky enough to force himself into silence by biting his tongue hard enough to taste copper. Surviving with a hearing aid was crucial because he needed his hearing for everything. He had Pyronica and the dog was an angel in disguise but on the likely occasion that she wasn’t there for whatever reasons he needed to make sure his hearing aid worked. He had taken to going to sleep without it on a handful of nights. If he thought it was going to storm then he would wear it only because anyone with a brain would use the sounds of a thunderstorm to break into a fortified cabin - or **Bill** would at least because he was smart. If it was a calm night, a night when he could hear the smallest of noises from fifty feet away, then he left Pyronica to being his ears and slept without it. It was a delicate situation of touch and go and the ear infections only hindered his methods. Were he ever unfortunate enough to wake up one day and realize that his hearing aids were dead then he’d probably keel over of a massive heart attack and the thought had his blood running cold in fear. A total shame he didn’t know someone who had access to a camp with resources, isn’t that right, Dipper?

 

“It’s hard to explain,” he left it at that. Not just because it _was_ hard to explain but because he didn’t want to stay in the infirmary for longer than he had to. The thought of laying in an actual bed almost gave him a full body shiver and he purred softly under his breath before clearing his throat in mild embarrassment, “So. You gonna check ‘em?”

 

“Hell yeah, baby, let’s take a look,” Wendy stood from her chair once she was satisfied with how secure the splint was and moved toward Bill’s right ear first, the one the omega indicated had the infection in it.

 

Bill hissed softly as the device was pulled out of his ear, face scrunching up minutely, before he tilted his head to the side for Wendy to see in as she retrieved a small flashlight out of one of her plethora of pockets. She was quiet for a moment as she peered inside, pulling at the shell of Bill’s ear gently to get a better look before she was humming quizzically and stepping back to move to the other one. This time it was easier to remove the hearing aid and Wendy couldn’t help but make the comment about how convenient the wrap connecting them was - it was even adjustable! While he was prone to getting infections in both ears, the right was always worse than the left and no doctor was ever sure why, that’s just how it had always seemed to  have happened. Being as old as he was now, he was of course very much used to them. It was a way of life now, just something he had to deal with. Going and seeing a doctor three times a month was a pain and didn't help his phobia but he was no less used to that than he was the ear infections. At least he knew Wendy. It didn't help the situation very much but she was far more kind than most alpha doctors Bill had met in his life time. 

 

“Looks like you’ve got one starting in this one too luckily it’s only just a little bit red, but that right one’s pretty sick, dude,” her voice was soft as she continued to peer into his ear before finally backing away, clicking her flashlight off and tapping the end of it on her chin in deep thought. She didn’t say anything for a time, her eyes instead roaming over Bill’s form, studying and taking him in. He was the typical omega, if anyone were to simply go by looks. While it was clear he was strong, having grown some muscle from needing to survive out in the ruins of Gravity Falls, he still had the typical body type. Smaller, shorter, slighter. Bill was slimmer than a beta was but just a slight bit taller than the average omega. His skin was a bit more tan too but that could also be from scavenging. She'd have to do a full physical soon, she could feel it.

 

When she spoke finally it was quizzical as her eyes flickered back to lock with Bill’s, “And you’ve been like this since you were little?”

 

“Yup,” though he was sure by some miracle Dipper probably knew that too. Hell, Dipper probably knew his entire life story and Bill wouldn’t be surprised.

 

Wendy hummed in thought once more before dropping the flashlight back into her pocket, “I got an idea.”

 

The younger alpha hurried through the wooden door as her off-white lab coat billowed behind her, leaving the door to swing open against the wall softly yet quickly and giving Bill a good enough of a view of the hallway that he could spy Pyronica laying patiently on the floor of the small lobby just outside. As soon as their eyes locked her tail began to wag and wag hard, swishing as her little rear end wiggled with it. She took her paws, scooting across the floor to get closer to him without actually standing and walking for the room, a small excited whine coming to her lips. On the way toward the  exam room Dipper had told her (though Bill would argue that he had **ordered** her) to wait there instead of following behind them. Bill frowned in obvious disapproval before his eyes flickered and narrowed toward Dipper who was busying himself with staring out the surprisingly clean window with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as his back was turned toward the omega and Bill took this as his chance. Like hell he was leaving his dog out there in the lobby by herself any longer, alpha commands be damned.

 

A small, hushed ‘psst’ left Bill as he leaned forward, reaching his hand down closer to the floor to grab her attention but not yet far enough to fall from the table. Even though the infirmary was as clean as it could get, with people who had been wallowing around outside in the dirt and mud, it wasn’t near as clean as a hospital should be and he did not want to fall and roll around in whatever germs were on the ground, thanks. Not to mention the walls were still a Godawful eggshell color with a dusty baseboard from carried in dirt and the tiles were an ugly shade of teal that was also just as dusty. Bill could still smell the disinfectant that they used in attempts to keep the place sanitary and he hated it. He hated hospitals and he wanted to get as far away from them as possible. He just needed Pyronica before he worked himself up. Hospitals never meant anything good. It didn’t matter that he knew who the doctor was and knew that she was helping, he hated them. Having spent most of his earlier life right after birth in and out of them, having to continue to spend most of his teenage life in and out of them, he didn’t want to spend the apocalypse drifting in and out of one too.

 

“Hey, baby,” as soon as her breath hit his knuckles he was relaxing significantly and smiling gently, hand coming up to pet and scratch behind her ears as he cooed softly at her. He hadn’t wanted her to stay out in the lobby to begin with and he’d almost kicked Dipper for forcing her to. The alpha had watched him for God knows how long and had _intimate knowledge_ as to how important Pyronica was to him, there wasn’t a word that existed in the entire English language that Bill could use to describe the amount of anger he felt at this situation and at Dipper.

 

A shadow shifted over the tiles just in front of Bill, obscuring the sunlight from the window as the wheels of the chair squeaking caught Pyronica’s attention, and Bill looked up in time to meet eyes with Dipper. The alpha had rolled the chair over to sit down in front of him with a gentle huff as the chair released some air from the increase of pressure and he leaned forward with his elbows rested on his knees. No words were exchanged for a time, a beat of silence passing as defiant blue met curious mocha. Neither said a word for a time even as Dipper’s gaze began to roam over Bill in very much the same manner as Wendy’s had. Or at least, Bill assumed in was in the same manner, he wasn't quite sure what Dipper was up to yet. The look had Bill stiffening in his spot once more regardless, instincts already defensive from being someplace new. It hadn't been much longer before then that he'd just been chased down by a whole pack of alphas, had Dipper allowed that to slip his mind? He didn’t like this. In fact, if he weren’t positive that Dipper wouldn’t retaliate then he would have punched the alpha right out of his damn seat by now. He was too close for Bill’s comfort and he was **staring**.

 

If this had been in any other setting, if they weren’t in an exam room waiting on a doctor, then maybe Bill wouldn’t feel this way. Caged in, cornered, any other term that meant he had no way out. Fact was that, with a quick glance around the room, he was. Bill was so terribly caged in and cornered. The table was shoved into the corner farthest from the door that was to the left of the alpha and the window, that was likely bolted or locked anyway, was just behind him. While he didn’t feel Dipper would do something to harm him, his omega instincts were still running haywire from earlier, from when he had to survive against a group of alphas that **meant** to do him harm in some way or form. Dipper’s heady scent was crowding him far too soon for Bill’s liking.

 

“ _ **What?**_ ” he hadn’t meant to snarl the word but when Dipper had yet to utter anything in edgewise and instead kept staring incessantly Bill’s already tiny patience had begun to run paper thin. Bill enjoyed attention in the _proper_ setting but he did not enjoy attention in _this_ setting.

 

A small chuckle had Dipper’s shoulders shaking as he leaned back in the office chair to relax against the cushion. Bill caught himself staring once more, studying the dip in the alpha’s posture and clothing as he realized that, _oh yes_ , this alpha was definitely fit. The way Dipper sat had his hoodie clinging to his sides and with it the t-shirt underneath it. His chest was broad, Bill could see the defined muscles of his pectorals through the thin red fabric, if his eyes roamed lower and Dipper hadn't had the damn hoodie on then Bill was sure he'd see a nice set of abs as well, and the omega swallowed hard passed the growing lump in his throat. Dipper was attractive, Bill would gladly give him that, but the blonde had so thorough disinterested himself since their last conversation that he was far too angry to even **fathom** the idea of it.

 

“You can read lips, I assume?” Dipper had waited to speak until Bill’s eyes had finally made their trek back up toward his face and the smile he wore as he crossed one leg over the other was quite smug. He was sure the scent was dripping off of him in buckets.

 

“The hell kinda-“ with a scoff, Bill rolled his eyes as he forced the words to die, realizing quickly that the alpha was simply playing coy with him. Bill really needed to learn to keep his eyes to himself, he knew he had been caught the moment their eyes met for a third time, “Yeah, I can. Impressed or something?”

 

A small hum left Dipper as he pondered the question, eyes averted to study the fake potted plant sitting dust covered in the corner as if in search of the correct answer before he shrugged and faced Bill once more, “I don’t suppose not so much by your ability to read lips than I am with your ability to articulate words fluently.”

 

“That sounded like an insult,” Bill’s eyes narrowed as he tilted his head, the debate to punch Dipper or thank him clear on his features, “Was it?”

 

Dipper snickered again, shaking his head shortly before attempting to clarify, “No, I don’t think so. Most people that suffer hearing loss since birth, like you, don’t talk as well as you do, or at least, I haven’t met any.”

 

“Don’t get out much, do ya?” that time it was Bill’s turn to snicker as he smirked at the alpha with smug intent.

 

“That sounded like an insult.”

 

Though it dropped quickly as his own words were repeated back to him with mirth practically dripping from every syllable. Bill didn’t need his hearing to feel the intent of those words. What was Dipper trying to gain from this conversation? Information? If Bill was his ‘ _job detail_ ’ then didn’t he already know everything? Wouldn’t that call for gathering medical records from a federal database or something? There was a part of him that said he was looking too deeply into this, worrying too much, but his instincts were usually right. Dipper had followed him for however long he had been following him. Hadn’t he seen or heard him talking with Pyronica? Giving her commands? While he never truly talked at length with Pyronica, she was a dog and there wasn’t much conversation to be had to begin with, he still **talked**. Had Dipper just never wandered close enough? Never cared to listen in on what he was talking to her about?

 

“I’ve had hearing aids for a long time,” the line of questioning made him uncomfortable, forcing him to shift in his spot just to ease tension, and he wasn’t sure what information Dipper was fishing for. Was he fishing for information on his family or early schooling? Was he searching for information on his intelligence? Whatever it was, Bill wasn’t about to bite.

 

“So, since you were a baby? Since the,” motioning to his own ears, Dipper paused for a second with face scrunched in thought as he searched for the right phrase, “let’s say incubation period.”

 

The blonde’s eyes narrowed again, only this time in distrust, and he didn’t answer the other immediately. Instead his eyes flickered up to Dipper’s own, trying to read what sort of emotion the other had. Bill had come to understand that unless Dipper was annoyed his scent had remained rather neutral. It never leaned more one way or the other and only ever spiked in anger or annoyance, usually at him. When the bikers were close, close enough that Bill’s scent had spiked in anxiety, Bill could smell Dipper’s own worry but he was sure that was more instinctual than it was Dipper’s own doing. Alpha’s, the ones who weren’t out to hurt an omega, tended to allow instinct to pilot their thinking when they wanted to protect an omega in need. Dipper’s instincts recognized that Bill was helpless at the time, scared as loathe as Bill was to admit it, so Dipper’s scent had spiked. Other than those occurrences however, Bill couldn’t read the alpha very well, if at all, and he hated it. Damn military training.

 

“Yeah, let’s say that,” he ground out through clenched teeth finally, already more than finished with this conversation.

 

“Then you developed normally? Learned to walk on time, speak, use the bathroom-“

 

“Forgive my French but,” Bill cut the alpha off swiftly, another snarl coming to his lips as he adjusted on the table to glare at him better, “the fuck are all these questions for?”

 

Another pause of silence passed between them as the pair stared at each other without a word. Neither spoke for a time, both either two defiant to do so or waiting each other out for information that wasn’t about to come. It was an awkward standstill and Bill wasn't sure what to make of it. Dipper's scent was the same while his was likely dripping with anger and worry. While Dipper's eyes had shifted with something Bill could only read as confusion, it didn't stay for long. When Dipper finally sighed in disappointment (the nerve, what the hell did he have to be disappointed about?!) and slumped in the chair he’d been casually lounging in, Bill furrowed his brows in his own bout confusion. Maybe Bill was wrong, maybe Dipper really _didn’t_ know anything. Maybe he was asking these questions because he was hoping _Bill_ did? Now that was more confusing than Bill assuming Dipper was in on this top secret Men in Black mission. 

 

“So you don’t even know,” the words were soft and while they were originally meant as a question they came out as more of a statement because Bill already knew the answer, he just wanted the brunette to clarify it to him.

 

“I wished I did. I was honestly hoping you might know something,” while Dipper had wanted to lean back in his seat, lay his head against the rest and close his eyes in an attempt to stave off the oncoming headache he could already feel forming, he knew Bill needed him at the proper angle to read his lips. Reluctantly so he had remained in the same position he’d been sitting in but that didn’t keep him from removing his cap and threading his fingers through his hair in frustration once he’d uttered the sentence.

 

Another far more defeated sigh left Bill as his shoulders sagged and he allowed his gaze to drift from Dipper to Pyronica who still sat obediently at his feet. Were there even orders for Dipper to follow him? Bill had come to understand a long while ago that the military weren’t exactly operational any longer but when the alpha had called him a ‘job detail’ he had almost hoped that _maybe_ they were and had maybe been regrouping this entire time, which was a shot in the dark in itself. It meant that there was still a fighting chance and they weren’t taking this lying down. If Dipper didn’t even know why he had been given the job to shadow and protect Bill without the omega knowing then that meant it never came from his superiors, it came straight from Stanford himself, and that was amazingly off putting. What could he have that his bio-chemistry professor want that was so important? At least, important enough for someone in the military to take interest in? Why did he want it so badly that he had put his great nephew, **a trained alpha from the military** , on the job? He was a typical omega from a small middle-class family from Gravity Falls. While he was extremely intelligent, he didn’t think that’s what anyone would be after, it was typical intelligence cultivated by good education and curiosity. He was damn good looking and he’d shout it from a small hilltop but good enough for an old beta to send the likes of Dipper to hunt him down? Good enough for the military? Stanford never showed him that sort of attention before, even in pre-heat when a beta _could_ smell his pheromones. Something didn’t add up and from the skeptical look in his eyes when Bill finally braved looking back, Dipper knew that too.

 

“I’m back!” Wendy’s rather cheerful voice cut through the tension like a hot knife as she sauntered her way back into the room, carrying a jar of murky, yellowish liquid high above her head like a prize. If she smelled the distress in either of their scents then she wasn’t showing it, “I swear, I had to fight ol’ Stan to the death for this thing.”

 

“Oh yeah?” finally Dipper allowed a genuine laugh to leave him as he relaxed back into the seat, smiling in amusement as the red head closed the distance between them, “What is it?”

 

“Garlic!”

 

“Gross,” both Bill and Dipper gagged in unison, faces scrunching up as the pair scooted away from the younger alpha whose smile only seemed to widen.

 

The lid was popped  with a snap and the three of them all turned from the jar as a group, heads turning and coughing almost uncontrollably at the pungent stench wafting from the opening, Wendy holding it away from herself as she covered her nose with her hand before speaking, “You use a q-tip and rub just a dab on the inside of your ear and it’ll heal the infection in a day or two. Save whatever’s left though. Stan’s only letting us borrow it.”

 

“The hell does he use it for that I'm only _borrowing_ it?” Bill grumbled, voice muffled from behind his own hand as he reluctantly reached for the jar. He wasn't very confident he wanted to walk around smelling of garlic but if it helped quicker than the ear drops? He was game.

 

A small unsure groan left Wendy, the lid clinking against the glass of the jar as she fastened it back and handed it over to Bill. She wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that question because no one was sure what the old alpha used it for, they just knew that he used it. Stan didn’t exactly have a job in their little camp but he was great at giving orders so everyone just allowed the man to assume he was the leader of their outfit. He _wasn’t_ , no one was in all honesty, but it worked out fine for everyone else and it made Stan happy at the end of the day so no one said anything.

 

“Just,” she paused, bending down to pick up Bill’s hiking boot and passing it over to Dipper before giving Bill a look of warning, “don’t use it all. Stan might kill us if you do. Two small dabs in each ear twice a day and it should be gone by tomorrow morning or the morning after. Something like that.”

 

Bill scrunched up his nose, staring at the liquid in pure disgust, but managed to take the jar regardless. He’d heard of putting full cloves in his ear once before and his mother had done so once or twice when he was younger, he’d hated it then and would likely hate it now but at least it was only the juice and not a full damn clove. This way he could still wear his hearing aid if he decided on it and he wouldn’t have to rely so much on reading lips. The only downside was that he’d smell like garlic for two or three days.

 

The feeling of his sock being pulled back over the splint caught his attention and he glanced down quickly to spy Dipper fixing the laces of his boot. Wendy had already left the room, Bill having looked around almost in embarrassment because he was about to rip his foot out of the alphas hold, so Bill relaxed slowly. He’d been so used to taking care of himself since he was a teenager, had been so adamant about not becoming one of those omegas that relied on alphas, that he forgot what it was like to be taken care of. Dipper was fairly gentle with him when he needed to be and Bill wasn’t sure if it were instinct this time. The hold Dipper had as he slipped the boot back on was feather light and Bill couldn't help but notice as the muscles in Dipper's arms shifted when the alpha began to tie his laces up. Suddenly his hold on the jar was a lit tighter than it was before and Bill had to force himself to look away from the sight before he broke the damn thing.

 

“Think you can walk?” when Dipper stood and held out his hands for Bill to take, he smiled as warmly as he could but Bill didn’t move to accept them immediately. First all Dipper could do was raise a skeptical brow, hands still hanging in the air waiting for the omega to take them. Bill almost felt guilty, it wasn't as if Dipper was a bad person because he wasn't Bill just didn't trust anyone or anything here. Things could have gone better between them, but Bill couldn't forget everything that was said, couldn't write it off as happenstance. When Bill still didn't make a move to take his hands, Dipper sighed softly, “C’mon, have I hurt you at all since we met?”

 

“No,” he answered truthfully, setting the jar down beside himself so he could take Dipper’s hands and allow the alpha to help him down from the table, “but that doesn’t mean I trust you. I’m a _job detail_ , remember?”

 

Dipper cringed softly, eyes darkening with something akin to guilt, before leaning by Bill and swiping the jar from the table. He likely forgot he had said those exact words but Bill hadn’t and he wasn’t planning on letting it go any time soon. It was an odd feeling being spoken to as if he wasn’t a person, being called a job detail as if he were a cup of coffee that Dipper was sent to fetch by a CEO of a law firm that the alpha was working under. When being spoken to like that, knowing he was only saved from those bikers because someone needed him for a job and not because someone saw he was in trouble, it almost hurt. Just a little. Bill wasn’t ever going to admit that to Dipper but it did.

 

“Okay, well,” with a nervous clear of his throat, Dipper shuffled from one foot to the other before whistling for Pyronica to come closer and handing the jar over to her with a soft smile. He waited before straightening into a standing position, watching to make sure the pit had a well enough hold on the small jar that she could carry it without it breaking inside of her mouth before he was facing Bill again, “let’s just get you a room, okay?”

 

“ _Oh, good_. I was about to think you were gonna-” when Bill felt Dipper lock his left arm under his knees and his right arm secure itself around his shoulders before lifting him up into the air, the snarky comment that was five seconds away from flying out of his mouth died before it hit oxygen and his arms looped around Dipper’s neck out of instinct. A brilliant blush the shade of crimson colored the omega’s cheeks, a surprised gasp being all that was left of his sass.

 

“Wanna repeat that?” Dipper smirked down at Bill, the smirk widening at the sight of the blush and he could feel the beginnings of a prideful purr rumbling in his chest as his hold tightened on the omega in his arms. 

 

Bill shook his head quickly, eyes narrowing once more as he looked away from the alpha long enough to make a grab for his hearing aid that had been left laying on the exam table so he could put them back in, “Nope. Not gonna repeat anything for you. Start walkin’, cowboy.”

 

“Cowboy. I like it,” taking the time to make small adjustments to the hold he had on Bill, Dipper began to walk from the room and down the hall before entering the small lobby, Pyronica trotting along beside them, “Far better than Pine Tree.”

 

“Well, get used to it,” the words were soft and distracted as Bill gently pushed his hearing aid into the right ear first, face scrunching up in pain before turning it on, “Because you smell like pine trees so I’m gonna call you 'Pine Tree'.”

 

A small almost amazed ‘huh’ left Dipper as he kicked opened the main door softly and held there it by leaning his back against it for Pyronica to exit first before walking out into the camp. He’d been told by a few of the other omegas that he had smelled of pine trees but he wasn’t too sure himself. Some had said the smell of books or coffee was stronger. None had ever said  **pine trees** was very strong but if Bill had elected to nickname him after it then it must be true. His eyes drifted down to the omega then in thought as Bill busied himself with adjusting his hearing aid, the blush not quite as prominent as before but still a nice shade of pink. Dipper wasn’t sure what he felt about Bill. He was annoying, that was for certain, while his sass and snark could likely be funny it wasn't all the time. Bill had a certain snark about him that Dipper wasn’t positive he knew how to handle, in fact. It was a special brand that could only rival Stan’s and Dipper didn’t want to sit around and wait for _that_ battle to explode.

 

“Awh, look at you two!”

 

Both Bill and Dipper whirled around at sound of the new voice, one in curiosity and the other in fearful annoyance. Though the curiosity didn’t stick around for long because as soon as Bill locked eyes with the additional alpha they were widening in surprise as he smiled brilliantly, a laugh coming to his lips. Dipper wasn’t sure what the laugh was for, his head tilting as he scrunched his face up in confusion, his hold on the omega tightening as Bill all but cackled in his arms.

 

“You have a twin! Oh man, and I thought I had wasted all of my stalker jokes in the car!” Bill snorted as he wrapped his arms around Dipper’s neck once more as his eyes grew alight with excitement, forcing the alpha to growl lowly, “Why didn’t you tell me, Pine Tree? I’m offended!” 

 

“Wait, stalker? Pine Tree?”

 

“This is why,” Dipper groaned as his hold on Bill tightened before he dropped the little pissant, purposefully ignoring Mabel’s questions as the woman’s eyes flickered from Bill to him and back again in clear confusion in favor of knocking Bill off of his higher than God’s pedestal, “You already wouldn’t let that go so I wasn’t about to bring my sister into it.”

 

A pout formed on Bill’s lips as he pulled at one of Dipper’s cheeks gently before he was cooing softly, “Awwhh, look at you, big bad alpha~.”

 

“Take him to Pyronica and give him a damn room before I drop him.”

 

“You’d drop me?! **On purpose?!** ” Bill all but screeched as he made to spin in Dipper’s arms to see the alpha better. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, hit him, shove him, something. How dare he drop him! It was only a joke!

 

The question wasn’t answered, something Bill realized Dipper was prone to doing often, and instead Bill was passed over to Mabel before he could enact any sort of retaliation none too gently. For her credit, she at least helped him adjust on his feet with one of his arms wrapped around her neck as she held him steady considering how fast Dipper had practically thrown Bill at her. He wasn’t a child and he didn’t appreciate being passed around as if he were nothing. He’d been tossed around enough since he’d gotten here, from the town square to the Jeep then the Jeep to the infirmary. It would hurt, sure, but he could walk and he could find his own room. Besides, Dipper hadn’t even introduced the alpha yet! He’d just handed him over to her without a second thought! They didn’t know each other and that was fine, Bill didn’t trust Dipper any more than Dipper likely trusted Bill, but Bill trusted Dipper far more than he trusted the others in this camp save for Wendy. He didn’t know anybody else!

 

Bill opened his mouth ready to berate the older for acting so damn childish (because if anyone were going to act childish here it was going to be him) but as soon as he’d looked up to do so his eyes landed on Dipper’s retreating back instead and he growled softly under his breath in defeat. Why couldn’t Dipper just stand still for five minutes? The pair hadn’t held a real conversation since they met. 

 

A nervous clear of her throat caught Bill’s attention as she pulled him closer to her, likely as a means to calm him down with her scent, before speaking gently as she turned to walk him toward a small string of cabins lined by pine trees, “I’m sorry about him. Ever since this whole mess started he’s been a-”

 

“Hard ass?” Bill finished for her, glancing up with a raised brow before looking beside himself to make sure Pyronica was still following beside him, “Military, right?”

 

Mabel nodded with a proud smile as she glanced down at her feet to make sure her steps fell in line with Bill’s so he wouldn’t have to walk as fast as her, “Yeah, Private First Class. Worked hard for years. I’m Mabel, by the way.”

 

Private First Class. Boot camp took a long time from what Bill knew and usually cadets started classes in high school with those junior ROTC programs. That meant Dipper was far older than Bill himself was. Dipper and Mabel didn’t look very old but looks could always be deceiving. Just because someone looked young that didn’t make them young. And if Dipper was in the military, was it possible that he was involved in the start of all of this? Considering the fact that no one really knew if the military was behind it, of course, but if they were. There wasn’t a likely scenario that Bill could see where Dipper would ever answer those questions if Bill asked him simply because they hardly knew or trusted each other enough but maybe Bill could work Mabel over. Someone around here had to know something about all of this. He needed to know why Stanford wanted someone to find him and follow him.

 

“Older or younger?” playing nice would get him far more answers than any sort of hostility so, as reluctant as he was, he’d play good cop with Mabel for as long as he could stand it.

 

“Older,” with a confident wink, Mabel shifted her hold on Bill to help him up the stairs of the main cabin before holding the door open, giggling softly as Pyronica let herself in first, “I mean, isn’t it obvious?”

 

“ _Totally obvious,_ ” here's hoping she didn't notice the sarcasm because there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that Bill could have stopped it.

 

“Mom said I’m only a few minutes older though, Dipper was right behind me because he’s a stubborn jackass and couldn’t wait. Don’t tell him I said that, though,” she whispered those last words conspiratorially in Bill’s ear before helping him into a blue velvet seat in the lobby gently. When she backed away, she looked over toward the check in desk with a curiously confused hum before walking off back down the hallway, likely to the office, before walking back toward him once more, “Okay, stay right here, I’ll be back. Don’t move, Dipper will kill me.”

 

When Bill opened his mouth to ask, Mabel turned on her heels and power walked for the main doors, opening them and disappearing back outside without another word. Okay. Well. Fine, he’d been alone for five years now, he could stand a handful of minutes longer. Though, he’d be the first to admit that he wasn’t a big fan of being ignored or cut off and he would greatly enjoy it if people would kindly stop it. Bill heaved a sigh before bending over and gently taking the jar out of Pyronica’s mouth, smiling softly before ruffling at the fur on her head. He’d only agreed to come here for the medical supplies but now he was getting a room so it looked like he was staying after all. His instincts had told him he wasn’t going to be leaving here and he didn't listen to them. Now they were stuck here without a way out. Maybe once his foot healed they could leave and head back for the Shack. No one would miss him here and he definitely wouldn’t miss anyone back.

 

“What do you think, girl? You like it here?” taking his hand, Bill pat at the empty chair beside him in invitation to Pyronica. She yipped happily as her tail swished in excitement and hopped up to claim the chair as hers and Bill wrapped his arm around the pit as she yawned and lounged against his side, “I’m not sure what my opinion is yet.”

 

That was a lie, he knew what his opinion was. He didn’t feel safe here because he never trusted other people to protect him. He had never wanted to. How could he put his life in someone else’s hands like that? While he knew Wendy well enough to know her capable and knew Dipper enough to know he could take care of himself, he wasn’t confident in the fact that they would have his back in any sort of situation. They could because they had the skill and Bill didn’t doubt that, what he doubted was the possibility that they would. Not everyone would turn around and pull him from a metaphorical burning building. Not everyone was a hero and not everyone was going to be a hero. Bill was so used to it being Pyronica and him for so long that it was hard to thinking of it being any other way and he had been fine with that. He trusted Pyronica far more than any human and that trust had never been broken before. Humans were such fickle creatures already and a crisis like this made them almost inhuman. Bill knew he could provide for himself. Thinking of allowing someone else to take the reigns for whatever reason scared the hell out of him.

 

Maybe he could hotwire Dipper’s Jeep. It wasn’t all that hard, right? He was smart. And it looked so easy on television. Not that television was a reliable source or anything but it couldn’t be entirely baseless. What wires was it? Red and blue? Just push them together until the car starts? Bill could do that and then Pyronica and he could drive far away. They could skip town maybe even head up farther north. A visit to Canada wouldn’t be so bad. A small frustrated sigh left him as he allowed his head to thump back against the brick wall behind him softly. He could have stayed at the Shack, defended it from the pack from the roof top. It was still just as likely that he would have met Dipper anyway even if he had stayed in the Shack. It wasn't a coincidence that Dipper had decided to swoop in like a war hero to save him once he'd stepped in that trap. He'd been hurt and it was likely that Dipper wasn't allowed to let him get hurt. This was far more confusing than Bill was able to process right now, he was too far too tired for this.

 

“Found her! Sorry, Pacifica likes to wander!”

 

Oh, hello. Look what the infected cat dragged in. An all knowing smirk played at his features as Bill lifted his head from the wall and he watched the pair heading toward him. They were of the same height which wasn’t abnormal even for an alpha and omega female pair and their fingers were laced together. Quite tightly too, Bill noted. It wasn’t an uncomfortable tight or he was sure the little blonde would have pulled away from it by now, she smelled the type to easily take offense to things or jump to conclusions. That being said, her scent was rather pleasant, for an omega anyway. It was light and flowery, almost like calla lilies and jasmine. Definitely suited her and went well with Mabel’s scent of brown sugar and honey.

 

“I do not **wander** , Mabel,” the omega, Pacifica, yanked her hand out of Mabel’s grip then but only because Bill was watching he was sure and it was far gentler than her words eluded as she stepped up to Bill and extended that same hand toward him in invitation, “Pacifica Northwest.”

 

Straightening in his seat, Bill extended his own, wrapping his hand around hers and shaking it curtly, that knowing smile growing ever wider the more he watched the pair, “Bill Cipher, at your service, sweetheart.”

 

“Sadly, it’s the other way around,” Pacifica moved away faster than Bill could keep up with and his hand remained outstretched in the air for a time as she stormed off for the counter in the middle of the lobby, clearly still a bit miffed at the comment Mabel had made before hand, “I handle housing. You have an issue with it then you come to me but I probably won’t do anything about it because, ya know, you get what you get here. It’s the end of the world,” as she spoke she swiped the clipboard from off of the marbled countertop and whirled around to march toward them again, flipping through the pages in the roster as she did so.

 

“I can live with that. I lived in the Mystery Shack for the last five years after all,” a rather nonchalant shrug had followed his words as he lounged back in his seat but he hadn’t missed the sudden spike in Mabel’s scent. He wasn’t aware as to the reasons why simply because the Mystery Shack wasn’t all that important. Everyone had been there at least six different times in their lifetime, himself included, and eventually someone was going to take up residence once it was found abandoned. It just so happened to have been him, so what?

 

Pacifica gave him a rather unimpressed stare, clipboard still in hand as she stopped just a few paces in front of him, before blowing a few strands of hair out of her face and deadpanning, “Congratulations. Anyway, I’ll set you up in cabin six, it’s one of our smaller ones and it’s closer to Dipper’s cabin-”

 

“Wait, why?” Bill hadn’t meant to cut her off because he himself hated when it happened to him and he tried to show the same courtesy to others but he wasn’t exactly sure he was comfortable with the fact that he was going to be living in a cabin next door to Dipper’s own. He had already spent so much time with the alpha and they were almost sick of each other. 

 

“Dunno. Ask Stanford.”

 

Oh. Of course. Why was he even surprised anymore? Every question he had asked so far had been given the same answer time and again. Ask Stanford. What the hell was Stanford’s sudden obsession with him? The beta had hardly talked to him before all of this and suddenly he was the most important person in the world? “And where is he exactly?” 

 

“He’s out. In uhm,” Mabel shifted uncomfortably, looking up toward Pacifica as if she were unsure of herself. As if this were something she shouldn’t be telling anyone and especially shouldn't be telling him and it forced Bill to narrow his eyes at her as she cleared her throat before finishing, “In Portland.”

 

“Portland,” Bill repeated dumbfounded, “Portland, Oregon.”

 

“Yeah. Yes. Portland, Oregon. He’s up there for work,” there was a curt nod, short and sweet, before she clarified his words, shifting on her feet once more as Pacifica shuffled closer to her almost protectively.

 

What the hell kind of work could he be doing that led him all the way to Portland? There wasn’t any sort of college open that needed him and he doubted that Stanford was going camp to camp to offer his services like a traveling merchant. And why Portland anyway? Wasn’t traveling that far dangerous? “Huh. Okay, well, think you could let me know when he gets in?”

 

Mabel seemed caught off guard by the question but had relaxed and had even smiled softly in his direction. Clearly Stanford had wanted this to be kept a secret either from him or from the collective of the camp and that meant Bill had to be careful about what he asked from now on concerning the old man, “I can do that. He wanted to meet you anyway. C’mon, I’ll help you to your cabin so you can get some rest.”

 

Bill allowed the alpha to pull him into a standing position and he kept most of his weight on his left foot. He’d almost wished Dipper was around simply for the convenience of being carried again, that would have been nice. Then he could have made a wedding joke about being carried through the threshold! Dammit. Well, maybe next time. It wasn’t as if Mabel wasn’t nice enough anyway. Talked a bit too much for his liking, though. And he wasn’t too fond of her scent. It was nice enough at first but he’d never had a very big sweet tooth to begin with unless coffee was involved.

 

Thankfully Bill was able to talk Mabel into carrying the jar of disgusting garlic water - which is what he was going to call it from now on, maybe Stan wouldn’t mind if he put a label on it. While Pyronica didn’t have any trouble carrying it on her own, watching her walk around with a jar in her mouth didn’t sit right with Bill. Anything could happen that could lead to it breaking and he’d never forgive himself if he allowed her to get hurt, especially like that. Sadly, however, that meant that Bill had to put more weight on his right foot than he had to on the trek over because Mabel couldn’t carry him as she had before. He would deal with it, of course, but it still hurt like hell.

 

The trail they were on that led to what was meant to be his cabin was lined with ruined rocks that Bill could tell used to be painted white for decoration but without the upkeep the paint had worn off long ago from the weather. Any sort of decorative gravel that had been used on the trail they were currently walking on had been so thoroughly covered by sand and dirt that Bill could hardly see it, it blended in so well together. Shrubs and small rose bushes were still intact, lining every staircase and porch that they passed, still cut and tamed to perfection, giving off a sense of nostalgia for days gone. Without looking beyond the gate and into the ruined cities and towns it was almost as if this area could still be vacationed in. It was surreal seeing a small place like this almost untouched by the fall out of a bio-chemical war. Bill wasn’t sure what it was that had caused the illness - or whatever it was that reanimated the dead - but this place? It was a damned time capsule. The group did well trying to keep appearances at least. 

 

“Here we are,” once Mabel had helped him up the near pristine stairs and opened the front door, she had released her hold on him, finally allowing him some independence and handing the jar of disgusting almost-pee before pointing over to cabin seven, “That’s Dipper’s cabin over there and mine is beside that one. If you need anything just, ya know, hollar. Or whatever.”

 

Bill laughed softly, leaning heavily against the doorframe to keep his balance as he allowed Pyronica to enter the cabin first to have a sniff around before answering softly, “Yeah, I’ll do that. Don’t worry about me, I’m a tough ol’ omega.”

 

Just the fact that they acted as if there wasn’t anything happening outside of the gates gave Bill a sense of ease. It was almost as if he could walk out there and do his job before coming back and pretending for a while that everything was okay. He could pretend for a moment that life was still the same here and he had neighbors that he could waltz over and ask for a cup of sugar from. Pyronica and he had a home for now even if he were hesitant to call it one. A place with a roof and a bed. They even had working lights, Bill had noticed a few porch lights with buzzing moths as they had passed on their way here. Maybe this place even had hot water! He was definitely going to check because that bath earlier sounded heavenly. He hadn’t figured out if he wanted to stay for good yet simply because he knew Stanford wasn’t meant to be trusted but maybe staying for a while wouldn’t hurt. At least until he got some damn answers.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short chapter but I just needed a bit of exposition to get things moving along. Enjoy regardless~.

It paced in the well lit airtight container like an animal waiting to be unleashed, snarling and twitching as drool dripped from it’s chin in globs, ready to jump and pounce at the first sign of movement. It was jumpy, eyes bugged and wide, frenzied even. The hunting boots it wore on its feet made its already jerky movements unstable, heavy, it wobbled on its feet as it walked from one end of the chamber to the other in its fruitless search. They made its already slim legs appear smaller by mere comparison, the boots like logs glued to sticks. The hunting gear he wore hung from his slight frame like rags and swung with every step he took, every so often stumbling over the hems of his camouflage pants. Every movement he made echoed against the walls, beating off of the concrete like a drum. The sound, the constant droning of his own walking, would likely drive any normal person insane. A synthetic light hung above its head, inset in the ceiling so it couldn’t break it down once move and obscure itself into darkness as it has done countless times before today. Thought process wasn’t its strong suit but it had begun to evolve and adapt to its surroundings and no one knew if that were a good thing or a bad thing.

 

His head laid cradled in his arms, glasses sat forgotten just near his elbow, as he all but laid on the cool metal desk. Green lit up the surrounding area just above his head as the computer monitoring the undead’s vitals beeped with sound, white words scrolling across the screen in lines of silver against a backdrop of emerald at a snail’s pace. Staring at text from the moment he woke up until the moment he went to bed had begun to grate on his nerves and his eyesight. Headaches were becoming a common occurrence and they weren’t showing signs of stopping. Once there was a time he could have worked for hours on end and would have done so with a smile on his face but that was before when the fate of the world didn’t hinder on his work’s progress. His superior wasn’t constantly breathing down his neck at every turn either, that he didn’t appreciate in the least. Hell, he could go for a damn good nap. One of those that could last from anywhere between an hour to three, one where he could wake up and not remember what day it was. He wouldn’t mind that.

 

“Hey,” a gentle hand rested on his shoulder as a soft familiar voice roused him from his tired musings and he groaned as the other chuckled over him, “I brought you some coffee.”

 

“Yeah, thanks, Ford,” though he didn’t particularly want to, he’d sat up with a huff and took the cup out of the beta’s hand gratefully, inhaling the aroma before taking a generous sip of the black liquid inside. Coffee didn’t do much in the way of waking him up anymore though that was possibly because his body had become so used to the caffeine by this point that it didn’t mean anything now but he wasn’t about to complain. It gave him a reprieve from reading text all day, a reason to take a break and no one would question him about it.

 

Ford sat down beside him with a tired groan of his own coming to his lips, another cup of coffee waiting to be drank in his hand as well. The pair had been working tirelessly on this project since July of 2020 and had seen many an endless nights together. While both were bound and determined to see this through to the end simply because they had started it together, to at least find something that they could both be proud of and call a victory, they were far more than just tired. It was their obligation and they had both come to that sort of understanding mutually without saying a word. But a bone tiredness seeped into their very souls had settled deep into their cores months back had laid over them like a weighted blanket. Both never talked about it at length but had known each other long enough to simply be able to tell by looks alone that they didn’t even have to. Long sideways glances at cots, darkened stares at the coffee maker deep in the night, listless dead expressions that said nothing as they wandered to and from the bathroom during breaks. Words weren’t needed between them any longer.

 

“Has he been like this long?” Ford finally spoke up once he’d taken the fifth sip of his coffee, hoping his voice didn’t sound as raw and exhausted as he looked, and he motioned with a nod of his head toward the chamber that sat just behind the computer equipment.

 

Fiddleford nodded in quick response, the dark bags under his eyes likely illuminated by the computer monitor in front of him as the pair watched the monster pacing in the room as it snarled at nothing but the air surrounding it, “Just about. Woke up from sedation around 0900 hours ago. Hasn’t stopped moving since.”

 

“I wished I had that sort of energy,” the laugh was short and simple, tired just like he was, but sincere and Ford brought the cup to his lips again and downed the rest of his drink.

 

“Damn, don’t I know it. You ever had one of those five hour energy things?” Fiddleford brought his hand up as he spoke, measuring out the size of the container with his thumb and forefinger in description as how he remembered them looking, eyes squinting to see better when their gazes met as he had yet to put his glasses back on.

 

Another laugh, a small lighthearted snort this time, and Ford shook his head, “Can’t say I have but my brother sold the grape flavored ones at his gift shop once upon a time.”

 

“I could drink about eight of those damn things right now and still be tired,” the cup of coffee in Fiddleford’s hand was downed as soon as the words left his lips, the cup being crushed with a sad crunch and tossed in the bin that lay hidden under the desk in a fit of bone-deep despair before he was speaking again in soft bitterness, “If _Brigadier Strange_ didn’t work us like cheap slave labor then maybe we could afford a nap or six.”

 

“Don’t let **him** hear you say that,” Ford’s voice lowered in warning, head tilting to glance around the darkened room warily as if said alpha could be lurking in any corner even though neither of the betas had seen or heard the door open, “Those words could get you for treason.”

 

It was Fiddleford’s turn to snort this time and it was seven times more mirthful than Ford’s own from a mere moment ago, “ _If only_ I could be gotten for treason. The only two scientists around still working on **this** shit? Bio-chemistry? He wouldn’t risk losing us for a pack of Skittles.”

 

A strained silence fell between the two as their eyes continued to follow the pattern of the undead locked away inside the windowed cage ahead of them as it paced like an angered tiger. It was the same path every day and every night. The same stare as it looked from corner to corner. A way out, that’s what it knew it needed. It always recognized that the door was to it’s right and that Ford held the keycard that opened said door but it couldn’t quite figure out how it all fit together. How it had come to realize those simple things at all was something neither of the two could figure out but it was something they were definitely experimenting with.

 

“I could use some damn Skittles, though,” Fiddleford finally spoke up softly as he leaned forward on the desk once more with his elbows, the metal making a soft thump from the sudden intrusion, his hands scrubbing across his face in a weak attempt to force himself awake.

 

“I could too in all honesty. Not sure those things survived the apocalypse though,” the cup in Ford’s hand was crushed before it too was disposed of in his own trash can awaiting by his side and he leaned back in his seat to stretch with a large yawn, eyes trailing over toward his cot in the corner almost dreamily.

 

The man beside him hummed in disappointment but had yet to say anything immediately, fingers instead threading through his hair for a time as he too yawned before speaking in a small and distracted tone of voice, “Did you know that Twinkies don’t survive the apocalypse either? Just an old wives tale or something like that.”

 

“Are we really this bored and tired that we’re sitting here playing Trivial Pursuit?” Ford laughed, arms dropping from their position outstretched in the air to rest at his sides as he straightened back in his chair to face Fiddleford, a genuine smile coming to his lips for what felt like the first time in a handful of months.

 

“That’s what we need!” shooting up in his seat, Fiddleford grabbed at his glasses and practically threw them onto his face before he was snapping his fingers in excitement, an ear to ear smile beaming brighter than an exploding star, “ _Monopoly!_ ”

 

Ford had meant to answer that with a resounding 'no' simply because he had quite a number of memories attached to that game and none too pleasant. Most of them were memories of Stanley being the world’s biggest cheater and the others were of Dipper and Mabel arguing for six hours over who was going to buy Baltic Avenue first. While he’d enjoyed family game night on any other night with any other board game, Monopoly was not one of those games. Stanley always conned himself into being the banker anyway and they always seemed to run out of five hundred dollar bills. Before he could open his mouth, however, a sizzling static drew his attention away from Fiddleford and he was turning to face his coms unit situated near his cot. 

 

It had been a while since he’d heard anything from the little camp his family had taken residence in since he left and he had begun to get worried. Worried but not surprised, of course. He’d given the radio frequency to Dipper before he had departed and had told the young alpha that he could contact him for anything, for more than what he’d asked him to do, but nothing ever came in. Stanley was a stubborn old alpha and likely would never ask for help and it was more than likely that Mabel didn’t even know the radio existed. The poor girl would bend over backwards for another person or busy herself with other things before she would ever think to look in Dipper’s cabin for it anyway. Maybe Dipper had made progress then?

 

A candid veil of excitement cast itself over his features as he stood and excused himself in a hurry, taking long strides to close the distance between his current seat and his unit. He had mentioned this theory to Strange once before and the alpha had seemed highly interested in it, invested even! It was a shot in the dark and Ford would need his nephew’s help in even finding out if it exists in the first place, but the wheels were set in motion now if Dipper was calling him to tell him what Ford hoped he was about to tell him.

 

“Great Uncle Ford?”

 

“It’s honestly refreshing to hear your voice, Dipper,” Ford laughed softly, his own hushed once the headset was secured atop his head and microphone in place before worry and elation was evident in his tone, “How is everyone? Is everything okay over there?” he wasn’t going to ask just yet even if Dipper knew what he was truly wanting to know. Ford loved his family, he did, but he was exhausted of working and traveling. He needed good news.

 

There was a small beat of silence before Dipper spoke again, his own voice soft, “Yeah, we’re all fine. Things are going, had a run in with Gideon’s Chip and Dale rent-a-dancers. They were after Bill but I got to him in time, thankfully.”

 

A large relieved sigh left Ford at that one simple sentence and he ran a hand across his face in thought. He needed to ask for leave immediately. He needed to get home as soon as absolutely possible. Things needed to be done, tests needed to be ran, experiments needed to be had. While he and Fiddleford had spent countless hours pouring themselves over Bill’s medical records, blood tests, EKGs, MRIs, they needed field testing done. Everything looked fine on paper, of course, but that said nothing if they couldn’t prove it to begin with. Ford needed to see it or Strange would never allow them to bring a civilian into the Portland laboratory.

 

“And? How is he?” he hated that he was already allowing his thoughts to be clouded by work. He hated that he was already allowing himself to be dictated by an agenda. If he had been allowed far longer than four hours rest since yesterday then maybe he would have the forethought to be more oriented but he couldn’t spare it. Bill was important.

 

Another pause took Dipper and Ford released the button to allow an almost annoyed sigh to leave him before Dipper caught it, “He’s a little asshole for one. Pretty, so I’m not surprised Gideon’s alphas were after him, they probably haven’t seen an omega in God knows how long but my mother told me not to stick my di-”

 

“Dipper, manners,” Ford chastised quickly.

 

“Sorry. He’s just,” when the young alpha sighed heavily and Ford caught the sound of a chair squeaking, Dipper groaned in exasperation before speaking louder than likely intended and Ford could hint a bit of resentment in his words, “Bill just knows how to push your buttons. I get it, unknown alpha taking you to a camp you’ve never been to and all that but, c’mon, man!”

 

“That bad, is it?” he hadn’t meant to smile, amusement clear on his features, and he certainly hadn’t meant to allow the emotion to be heard in his voice but he knew Bill, had taught Bill for three semesters. Bill was extremely intelligent, intuitive, inquisitive, any word that could be used to describe someone with a high level of smarts was Bill. For all that Bill was, however, warm and inviting was not those things. Ford had already known Bill would likely give Dipper a hard time simply because Bill didn’t trust easy. Trust was something Bill didn’t just give out like a bag of candy at Halloween. It had taken Ford three hours to convince the omega to take part in a group project his first semester in his class on account of the fact that Bill was under the impression that ‘he’d be doing all the damn work anyway, what was the point?’.

 

“Great Uncle Ford, _‘bad’_ doesn’t even begin to describe what he’s put me through! I couldn’t even stop to piss on the way to camp without him leaning out of the damn window and cat calling me!”

 

Ford snorted and had almost doubled over from a laugh that had died on his lips quicker than it had formed thankfully for the fact that he realized he’d forgotten to let off on the button just below his index finger that meant Dipper could hear every bit of it so instead he had reigned himself in, clearing his throat as quickly as possible before straightening in his seat as if that would help it, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Dipper sounded put off, likely from Ford’s laughter and for good reason because Ford didn’t even sound all that apologetic either, and even he was adjusting in his own seat with the damn squeaking loud enough to be heard over the microphone once more, “I just wanted to tell you that I got him and to let you know that he’s a pain in the ass.”

 

“As I’m vastly aware, Dipper,” that time Ford couldn’t stop the tiny chuckle but this time it was more good natured rather than at Dipper’s expense, “Thank you.”

 

Once Dipper’s line was cut, Ford let go of the button and pulled the headphones from his head slowly, deep in thought already. Fiddleford and him had brainstormed a few ideas on how to field test the theory mentioned but to get there in one piece with the pawns in play was the problem. So many of their pawns were selfless. A great number of their pawns were also helpless and they had to keep that in mind during their planning as well. When hungry, as they always were, the undead were an unstoppable force and they weren’t to be reckoned with. Sounds drew them in and that was discovered early during the outbreak but gunfire had quickly become their favorite. Gunfire had meant people and people had meant food. Dipper owned a gun so it was likely that Bill owned a gun. Wendy’s family were lumberjack’s if he remembered right so it was highly possible that the young alpha could take care of herself as well and she were a doctor. Ford had intimate knowledge of what a fresh bite looked like and how it developed.

 

“Fiddleford,” he spoke up softly as he stood from his seat, waltzing back over toward the other man before hovering over him, hands resting on Fiddleford’s chair, to peer at the line of text on the computer monitor sat before them, “The outbreak in Gravity Falls, where did it start?”

 

“Town square, if I remember right,” Fiddleford leaned back into the warmth of Ford’s presence comfortably, head tilting to look up toward the other curiously with furrowed brows before quickly catching on, eyes catching alight with understanding, “They hide in darkened areas, remember? The mines?”

 

Ford hummed in thought, fingers tapping on the back of Fiddleford’s chair as the other continued to stare up at him in search of approval. How could they coax a small horde from the mines to the camp? Or at least within proximity of Bill? Being omega surrounded by a handful of alphas, he wouldn’t be alone for long once his scent spiked and Ford would need for the others to be occupied just long enough for this to work but not too long that anyone is severely hurt or, worse, killed. Not to mention Bill had that blasted dog that never left his side.

 

“You’re worrying again,” his voice was soft but it was loud enough to catch Ford’s attention and their eyes locked long enough for Fiddleford to roll his eyes at exactly how grave of an expression Ford was wearing, “Go talk to Strange about getting your leave. I can figure something out from here, okay?”

 

Another soft and relieved sigh left him as he smiled fondly down at Fiddleford and he released the man’s chair in a gentle motion, allowing the other to scoot closer to the desk as his fingers began typing away at the keyboard. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Fiddleford could come up with something to get the horde there but Ford would still find things to nitpick about. While he wasn’t close to everyone in that camp he didn’t want anyone to die. The whole reason they were sat here working tirelessly was to prevent things like that from happening to begin with. It was a fantasy to believe they could do this without losing someone but Ford wanted to prevent as much loss as he could.

 

His steps were self assured as he walked down the brightly lit hallways that contrasted starkly to the dim little workroom Fiddleford and he had set up for themselves when they had first arrived here. Everything was bathed in a sterile white that flared under the lights above his head as he hurried along toward his destination. The compound was an endless stream of winding hallways and endless rooms, sometimes leading to nowhere if one was unfortunate enough to get lost. While not being near as big as the underground compound in Redding, the Portland laboratory had its own way of turning a person around and making them forget where they were going. Ford hated having to admit that a tour was needed when he had first arrived and Fiddleford was always the first to remind him of the fact when Ford bragged to a newcomer about knowing the layout of the hallways by hand.

 

Anything to keep him from being pigheaded, Fiddleford always claims in that fondly smug voice of his.

 

Brigadier Stange’s name plated oak wood door came into view sooner than Ford would have liked it to and the beta had to pause just in front of it for a moment to take a calming breath. An annoying ringing and the rushing of blood overcame his hearing as his heart pumped more blood than necessary once his body had registered how nervous and excited he was. Strange was interested in this theory and wanted it tested but saying he wanted it tested and actually signing off and it being tested were two different things entirely. A person could say one thing and do something else the next once their mind or agenda has changed. If someone else, another scientist, has discovered something that Fiddleford and he hasn’t then it wouldn’t matter if this theory were true or not because Strange would no longer care.

 

His hands shook as the sigh that left him was far more shaky than normal. He needed this. This could work and it could save the world. They could make a cure, Fiddleford and him, they could right the wrong they had done five years ago. The pair of them had been working so hard for so long, many sleepless nights that left them hallucinating a large piece of chocolate cake in place of their can of cold beans, if this were all for nothing?

 

The knock at the door surprised even him because he wasn’t aware that he’d done it until it was already too late but he straightened his back regardless and thanked whatever higher power above that betas didn’t have a scent. Once Strange sniffed the first sign of hesitation on his men the answer afterward was usually a sickly sweet ‘no’ with a venomously kind smile tact to the end of it.

 

“Come in.”

 

Ford opened the door softly and took a step through the threshold, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the carpet and greatly contrasting to the reverberating drum they made down the halls, “My great nephew found him, sir.”

 

“Always one to cut right to the chase, Pines,” whatever paper he had been currently scribbling his signature on was ignored in favor of the alpha tossing a dashingly handsome smirk in Ford’s direction, “I always liked that about you. So, Mr. Cipher’s safe?”

 

“He is. I have the means to start the field testing, Agent Fiddleford is working on how to attract the horde from the mines and lure them to the camp as we speak to test out theory we talked about. I just need to-”

 

“Get home and see it for your own eyes, I understand,” Tad finished for him, leaning back in his red leather high back chair. His eyes roamed over Ford as his fingers carded together in his lap, trying to read the posture the beta had. Because there wasn’t a scent he could base an emotion on and Ford kept his expressions as neutral as he possibly could when around Strange, the alpha had taken a liking to reading his body language instead. A small hum left the man and he smiled, a mirthful, sadistic gleam to it as he leaned forward on his desk to rest his chin on his hand, “And if this theory of yours is wrong what will we do then?”

 

Ford opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, his lips forming around something akin to a word but the syllables didn’t quite make it there. He hadn’t thought of that because he was so sure of himself. After seeing the scans and the MRIs, there was medical evidence that this was here, Ford just needed visual proof. Strange had always been the kind of man who needed to see to believe, just because a handful of doctors and two scientist told him that it was a high probability that this existed didn’t mean that it did. The alpha likened that to being told the Loch Ness monster was real based on seeing a photograph. Just because the photo existed that didn’t make the monster real.

 

“I don’t know, sir. I hadn’t thought that far,” he finally admitted ruefully, voice regretfully soft.

 

Tad hummed again in response, gaze following toward his paperwork again in thought as if he were going to drop the conversation and continue with what he’d been doing previous, his free hand even coming up to grab for the pen and lift it before his eyes flickered back up to Ford once more, “He’s omega, isn’t he? This Bill Cipher?”

 

Ford’s brows furrowed for a mere moment, confusion obvious, before it clicked and his mouth suddenly ran extremely dry. He’d had his reservations in giving Strange Bill’s files, any of them, the medical records, his schooling records, his Omegatrician records. Bill was capable, smart, good looking - any alpha would have killed for him before but now?

 

A long winded sigh left him through his nose before he could answer and when he did it was a strained, “Yes, sir.”

 

“If this doesn’t work out for whatever reason and he doesn’t die,” a pleased and quite smug sort of satisfied smirk slid its way onto Tad’s features as the alpha relaxed back into his seat once again, arms resting at his sides once more, “I want him here. But with me. You’ll do that for me, won’t you? I mean, you’ll be bringing him here regardless anyway, right?”

 

Regretfully so but Ford didn’t dare utter those words. In fact, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, instead staring at Strange in a confused and angered horror, a sort of feeling he’d never felt toward a person before. Ford had never been in this type of situation where’d he’d have to negotiate with someone’s life. A female omega was rare. A male omega was a commodity. And that was before when the world wasn’t in distress, with the population suffering, with so few people, omegas were being sold in sick third world auctions in a twisted way to cure the issue. It didn’t surprise him in the least that Strange would jump at the chance to wrap his nasty little fingers around the first omega he laid his eyes on and Ford clenched his fists tightly at his sides to keep himself from saying anything he’d regret. The fact that he had allowed himself to be played into this corner, into this part of barterer, made him physically ill and if it didn’t look suspicious then he would have thrown up all over Strange’s floor.

 

Instead, he answered with a low and almost growled, “I would, sir,” the words bitter and fowl on his tongue. If he could have spit them at Strange then he would have.

 

“Wonderful!” a genuinely elated smile split Tad’s features practically in two, the alpha every bit as jovial as a child given free run of a candy store, as he clapped his hands together and straightened in his chair, “You have your leave, Pines!”

 

Current conversation notwithstanding, Ford felt the weight of the world literally and figuratively drop from his shoulders and they sagged, a grateful sigh leaving him. Strange was a creep and would forever be a creep. Ford had heard stories and never put any thought behind them until now but he was going to overlook them for the sake of being able to put this theory to the test. He was going home. He was going to see his family and he was going to finally right this wrong. If it came down to it he could keep Bill safe. He could get the omega out of here, out of the building and away from Portland, without Strange forcing himself onto the omega. Once more he found himself thanking whoever it was above that they couldn’t smell each other, Ford was positive he didn’t want to get a whiff of whatever scent was rolling off of Strange now.

 

Things would be fine and he could do this, he was confident of that. A curt nod and a swift turn, Ford grabbed the doorknob with every intention of getting the hell out of this room, not able to stand the sight of Strange. Nothing good would come of staying any longer than he needed to anyhow. Ford had already wanted to go home before now but after this? Knowing what Strange’s personal agenda was? The door clicked and he pulled, rounding it and taking a step out into the hallway and he took a large gulp of air that wasn’t being shared by Strange when the alpha spoke up again.

 

“And Stanford,” his voice was dripping sweet venom, a cheshire grin taking the place of his previously easy going smile, “Don’t disappoint me.”

 

Their eyes locked once more but only for a moment and it took everything in Ford to not glare at the alpha, “Of course, sir. I understand, I won’t disappoint,” even if he were hesitant to bring Bill here.

 

Once the door was closed behind him with a soft click he took off down the hallway in all but a run, the lights passing by him in a blur as he walked briskly toward his shared workroom. He wasn’t staying here any longer. Home was calling and the call was loud, pulling him even the closer he got to the door to their workroom. Even after talking with Strange, a smile broke on his lips and the less distance there was between him and the door, the bigger it grew. Strange couldn't ruin this for him now. He was finally going home.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Endgame Collapse came out for Dead by Daylight so I got sucked back into playing for a few days and this chapter was giving me trouble so I had to take a step back.
> 
> Also, role playing was distracting me a bit lmao. I seriously have the attention span of a carrot, I'm so sorry.

So maybe Bill wasn’t as bad as he had originally thought him to be and maybe this was just him shooting himself in the foot but he was starting to truly enjoy being around the omega.

 

Conversations were still a _minefield_ of aggravation and barely controlled resentment on both sides between the two of them but they had made a bit of progress in what little bit of a relationship they could muster since Bill had come to stay at their quaint little camp. Dipper wasn’t sure he could venture so far as to call what they had a true relationship because he wasn’t even sure that they were even friends as simple and as nice as that sounded. The conversations were friendly enough and Bill’s scent no longer spiked in anxiety or distrust (that of which Dipper made _damn_ sure not to allow his own to spike in pride so as to not elude Bill to the fact he was pleased with the progress) but that didn’t amount for anything when compared to how volatile their relationship had started out as. If Bill smelled he was anything but neutral then he might take it as hostile or a slight, as odd as that sounded, and Dipper didn’t want to take two steps forward only to take eight steps back.

 

What was unfortunate about the little amount of progress he had made with Bill was his twin Mabel.

 

Poor girl, without the excitement of her old life and her old friends, she had been lacking her old fire. She had been lacking her will to _truly_ live. On more than one occasion Dipper had found himself on the receiving end of a ‘Bill is gorgeous!’ conversation and he had already known where those types of conversations with Mabel would lead and had more than enough experience on how to tune them out. Thankfully he was a vital member of their community and didn’t have time to spend talking about what **could** be with Bill and had enough excuses to duck out of the conversations. Somewhere in between walking on all of those eggshells with Bill, Mabel saw something spark between them. It was apparently so tiny that not even he could see it but it had set a fire in her eyes and she was determined to make something of it. Determined to do what with that _something_ , Dipper wasn’t sure, but she hadn’t let up for weeks. Any job that he was given to do, be it scavenging or hunting, Bill was somehow involved or was always on the roster as his partner.

 

Luck was on his side because fortunately the omega wasn’t stupid and would talk himself out of it, catching on quickly to Mabel’s attempts at playing matchmaker. Pacifica and him had built their own bond since he’d moved in, something about being omega and having to stick together (they were the only two in camp) so the two began to spend more time with each other, mostly trading cooking secrets. Dipper was so relieved that he’d allowed what little joy he’d felt to seep into his scent that first time Bill had rejected going hunting with him. Bill had smelled it and Dipper only knew because the omega’s pupils dilated at the scent and from then on Bill started shirking duties whenever he could just to get a whiff of something that wasn’t Dipper’s usually neutral scent. The younger had become so addicted to it that he’d actively hunt Dipper down to tell the alpha that he couldn’t go hunting with him just to smell him. While flattering, Dipper thought it was also _highly_ hilarious and had to fight every waking moment not to laugh right in Bill’s face.

 

Here was where his problem lies now, however.

 

Dipper’s usual hunting partner was his Grunkle Stan. The two had been doing so since the camp had been established, bringing in far more meat than was typically needed and that was almost customary at this point. So customary, in fact, that everyone was more than familiarized with this and looked for them to go out together because it was safer for them to do so, not just for them as a hunting pair but for the camp - it kept them fed for months. When word of Ford’s arrival made its rounds and Stan caught wind, he elected himself as the head of the party planning committee. A committee that didn’t even exist but a committee that Mabel was more than _elated_ to make and be apart of. So the brand new party planning committee was created and started having meetings with its new members, those of which were Stan, Mabel, Pacifica (reluctantly so), and Soos. Aside from Pacifica, three of those members were his hunting partners, two of which were his Stan-stand-ins, and three of those members either volunteered themselves or were elected by another member to join and Dipper wholeheartedly blamed Mabel for all of this.

 

Because who else would she suggest to accompany him out into the woods of Gravity Falls to track down animals ten times bigger than himself but Bill Cipher? The young omega that he was just starting to get the least little bit close to, used to? The young omega who had never tracked an animal a day in his life? Or had only hunted squirrels and rabbits from the roof of the Mystery Shack? The young omega that had a scent that smelled of roasted coconut and honeysuckle, a scent that he was steadily becoming addicted to? Of course Mabel would work her magic and muscle her way into something that would thoroughly distract her from working, from working with Dipper specifically. And _of course_ when he would let his guard down enough to finally allow the scent of disappointment and wariness to sink into his own, Bill would catch on, smirk in amusement, and agree with the smuggest ‘yes’ that he had ever heard come out of anyone’s mouth in the history of ever! For lack of a better word, Dipper was fucked.

 

This is where they had found themselves now. Both of them climbing out of the Jeep as Dipper parks it in the most dense part of the woods that he could find as he slips his hoodie off and tosses it at Bill to hide the omega’s scent with his own, hoping by some miracle that Bill doesn’t catch it and it smacks him in the face. It doesn’t because Bill is ten times too fast but the mental image was satisfying enough that it left Dipper with a pleased smile. God willing he was able to hide it from Bill because there was no way he was going to be able to explain the reason for the smile to the omega. Bill was the type to never drop anything if he felt there was anything important behind something. Dipper had barely gotten him to forget the fact that he was a “job detail” and Bill still brought it up every so often whenever the omega saw fit. Maybe Bill had been trying to get Dipper to feel guilty, to get his scent to sour and get something other than neutrality out of his scent or demeanor or something like that. It hadn’t worked, Dipper was well trained. The military didn’t want anything leaked through his scent or expressions in case he was ever captured and tortured so it was going to take a lot more than Bill acting childish to get him to cave, but Bill had still tried his damnedest. Mabel definitely knew how and she was working Dipper over in Bill’s favor. Maybe that had been one of her many goals when she would pair Bill with him on the job roster. 

 

Had Bill shown interest? Had he started touching him different, standing closer to him, scent spiking oddly? Dipper hadn’t noticed it. In fact, even now, as they crunched their way through leaves and twigs on their path through the woods to get deeper into the trees, Dipper glanced back at said omega and Bill wasn’t even paying any mind to him. Instead, his gaze was on their surroundings and those azure blues were intensely taking them in. 

 

Dipper couldn’t blame him for being a slight bit prudent. The last time Bill had been outside of the camp he had been surrounded by a gang of alphas chomping at the bit to corner him and likely force him into situations he didn’t want any part of. They were alphas, of course they were going to force him into situations he didn’t want to be apart of, what was Dipper thinking? That was the whole reason for Dipper handing him his hoodie after all but not even that had eased the omegas worries and Dipper could smell it in Bill’s scent, hoodie on or not. Bill had done beautifully in providing and protecting himself that evening but that didn’t mean it hadn’t scared him or shaken him to his core. Bill already trusted so few and with them having to leave Pyronica behind back at camp it wasn’t likely that Bill was going to relax any time soon.

 

Even so, Dipper hadn’t noticed Bill acting any differently around him in specific, at least not physically. Bill’s scent hadn’t changed or spiked in one way or the other and Dipper hadn’t noticed if he’d started laughing more or some other such nonsense like that, something Mabel would definitely use as evidence if she were asked about it. Or maybe Dipper was just blind to love and all of its trappings. Mabel had always said he was clueless when it came to flirting and that made her the self proclaimed ‘expert’. Reason why she played matchmaker so often as he claims. She had to pick up his slack because if she didn’t then he’d be a virgin for the rest of his life, her words not his, of course.

 

“You said you can’t track, right?” Dipper forced himself out of his musings as he squat down to inspect a patch of disturbed dirt in front of himself curiously, eyeing the leaves that lay in disarray. 

 

Bill’s soft footsteps stopped just behind him and they almost sounded startled as he didn’t answer immediately, likely trying to judge if it was a loaded question or not. His clothes rustled as he leaned to peer around Dipper to eye the ground as well, studying from afar silently, before finally huffing a solid, “Nope.”

 

After a short nod and a quick readjustment to his stance so Bill could see better, Dipper motioned for him to take a step closer with a wave of his hand, keeping quiet until the omega was finally crouched beside him. He noticed quickly how unsure Bill’s movements were, how out of his element Bill was. For all intents and purposes, Bill wasn’t the outdoorsy type of person. Certainly wasn’t the typical omega, he was mouthy and there was no way in hell Dipper could walk into Bill’s cabin and request a sandwich without getting half the kitchen thrown at him, but Bill had never truly hunted before. The omega was apprehensive, mousy even, and he could smell it dripping off of him in sheets. Dipper sort of liked it.

 

Bill enjoyed science and books and all things outdoors, of course. He didn’t decide on chasing a major in bio-chemistry for bragging rights, the omega had a thing for plants. All plants, not just the pretty ones, Bill had made positive Dipper knew that lest the alpha get the wrong idea about him. To be hunting, tracking, doing something other than studying a plant that grows on the side of a tree for no apparent reason other than for the simple fact that it could? Doing something that didn’t pertain to science and taking samples back to a laboratory for Bill to test on later? Not to mention the fact that Dipper was positive he was going to be the world’s worst teacher. This was far too new for Bill and far too soon.

 

And as loathe as he was to admit it, when Bill had leaned in close to him, had even scooted to saddle up next to his side to squint at the mud in front of them, Dipper had leaned in as well. Not because he was trying to get a better look at the ground himself but because Bill’s scent had pulled him in. Something other than apprehension had caught Dipper’s attention. Intrigue. Bill was smart and Bill bragged about that a lot so Dipper was more than aware of just how smart Bill was, but to see his eyes light up with quick understanding, his scent shift with interest for something, it sent a wave of drunken need shooting down Dipper’s spine. He liked the smell, how flowery and almost feathery soft it was. He wanted more of it.

 

“So,” Bill’s voice brought him back to reality and the omega smirked when Dipper had to clear his throat, “deer, right? The hoofprints are light but I can see ‘em.”

 

“Y-yeah,” he hated that he had stuttered the word as softly as he had but Bill had thoroughly distracted him, made him lose focus. Hell, all of his focus was on Bill, it wasn’t that he’d lost it, just misplaced it in favor of finding something more interesting in the current moment, “Looks like a buck, the prints are a slight bit bigger, see how they’re pressed into the dirt?” luckily finding himself, he pointed out to Bill where the prints dug into the mud in some places, “Means it weighs more. Think you can tell which way it went?”

 

Bill snorted at first, a small meaningless little laugh that had Bill glancing up at Dipper with eyes shining brightly in a carefree mirth, oblivious to the fact that the alpha was asking for an honest try. Bill thought Dipper was kidding. Until it dropped when Dipper only stared back at him almost dumbfounded and the omega cleared his throat nervously, “So, you were serious? Uhm, okay…” 

 

Confidence was just one of those things that Dipper could pinpoint readily in Bill’s scent from a mile away, it didn’t matter what the omega was doing. Even if Bill hadn’t done it before the omega was always confident in himself and his abilities and Dipper could always smell it. Staring at him now, watching him analyze the dirt and mud, trying to infer where the trail began and where it ended, that usual spicy confidence was waning. Something else was in its place, something sweeter. Dipper hadn’t smelled it before on Bill, needless to say he was enjoying it and he was unabashedly staring without a care. Even if Bill just so happened to catch him Dipper felt he would continue to do so simply to see what other emotion he could force out of Bill.

 

“It went that way,” his hand lifted slowly, unsure of his own movements, as he pointed off in the direction of a small bubbling stream and Dipper regretfully decided to follow the path as Bill’s eyes flickered up toward him, “Right?”

 

He wasn’t wrong, that much was obvious, and Dipper smiled pridefully before he stood without a word. Nothing in the entire universe was going to allow Dipper to give Bill the satisfaction of the alpha telling him he was right so he remained silent as he followed the trail, keeping crouched to use the bushes for cover as they walked. Luckily for him, Bill had caught on to the fact that they needed complete silence and followed behind in very much the same manner but Dipper could smell the resentment from a mile away, could almost picture the displeased pout gracing those pristine features, and a pleased purr rumbled in his chest. Two could play at these games and Bill had been keen on being the master of said game from the moment they met. As if Bill were the only one who needed to know things about the other. As if Dipper weren’t in the same boat. Dipper knew almost less than Bill did save for the fact that he knew when Bill tended to wake up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. Aside from that, Dipper had been navigating this rocky relationship of theirs just as blindly.

 

It had never become clear to him what Bill thought he knew simply because he wasn’t even sure how Bill was important to begin with. There wasn’t much special about Bill that stood out, nothing that would call for the military to take interest in the omega. Being smart had nothing to do with it, there were plenty of smart people in the world and even now they weren’t sought after, not like this. Bill had been bound to figure out what Dipper knew and that had set their relationship on a course for destruction before it had even began. When it became obvious that Dipper either wasn’t going to tell or didn’t know, Bill wasn’t sure where to go with what little they had between them and that made their relationship almost unreadable.

 

This was a good start, Dipper could admit that. Mabel was onto something when she had tried to send them out together weeks back. Still, Dipper wasn’t sure he was comfortable with what this could mean for them. Being an alpha, his instincts would call for him to act eventually. Either during his own rut or Bill’s heat, whichever of the two came first. The longer they spent time together, brushing up against each other and committing each other’s scents to memory, the more real that fear was. How was he even meant to talk about something like that?

 

“Is that it over there?”

 

Bill’s voice caught his attention once more, the happy excitement in the omega’s voice making his heart flutter, and Dipper quickly made to whirl around to glare at the omega. Likely to tell him to shut up which would have only resulted in the pair arguing so it was a damn good thing he had the will to hold himself back. When Bill nodded his head in the direction just across the stream and Dipper followed his line of sight, he smiled as his own eyes caught a glimpse of the buck grazing in the grass. He could forgive Bill for sounding excited.

 

“That’s the one,” with his voice a mere whisper, Dipper nodded and moved behind Bill quickly and with ease, pushing on the omega gently and with urgency until the blonde was standing perfectly in front of him. If he were going to show the younger how to hunt then he was going to do it properly, dammit. With his chin on the other’s shoulder and chest pressed against Bill’s back, he lined up the shot himself by peering through Bill’s rifle scope before allowing the omega to do the same, “See where I have it aimed?”

 

“Mhm,” maybe later Dipper could take pleasure in the fact that Bill’s voice had wavered. Maybe later Dipper could rejoice in the fact that Bill had leaned into the hands he had placed on the omega’s hips and the light pink blush that had dusted across tanned skin. Pink was a beautiful look for Bill. For now, he was going to teach Bill how to hunt the real way and relish in these new feelings later.

 

He pulled Bill closer before removing one of his hands and placing it on his back in between the omega’s shoulder blades and forcing his upper back forward, their hips just shy from connecting as Dipper moved away faster than should be considered normal, “Keep crouched in the grass. Your rifle will go off and he’ll hear it before the bullet will hit him. The spot I have you aimed for won’t kill him so we’ll have to chase him a ways.”

 

“That’s a bit cruel, ain’t it?” Bill had made to look away, to glance back at Dipper almost with a disapproving stare but Dipper could see something else in those azure blues before he shushed the blonde and snapped his fingers softly to force Bill’s attention back on the rifle before he lost the placement Dipper had set. He didn’t want to have to get too close to Bill, not like that again.

 

“Might be but this causes the least amount of trauma, believe it or not,” with a roll of his eyes Dipper slowly removed his hands from Bill’s form, trying to ignore how his hands twitched to grab at the omega’s hips again, eyes roaming over him to recheck posture before moving to stand at the omega’s side, “Okay, whenever you’re ready, shoot.”

 

Though Bill had nodded and even squeezed the trigger gently, he hesitated before the bullet could leave the barrel. Something about this felt far different than killing something small. With a rabbit or a squirrel, the bullet tore those things apart, they practically exploded considering! Yes, he knew he was exaggerating. It was quick and almost relatively painless. Fact was that he knew this was going to hurt far more than he liked to admit and it didn’t sit well within him, heart stuttering at the mere thought. Deer had independent thought. While some could argue that the undead might, they didn’t seem to care what was done to them, they had an end goal in mind and ordinarily stopped at nothing to get to it. Deer just wanted to survive.

 

“Bill,” Dipper slinked his arm around the smaller male’s waist slowly and softly, a satisfied purr rumbling in his chest as Bill relaxed back into the hold, “We need to eat too. I know it sucks but the world will go on. It’s just one buck.”

 

A slow exhale of air forced its way out of Bill’s nose as he adjusted his stance slightly once more, the dried up twigs under his knee and boot crunching and breaking in half as he did so. As horrible as it was he knew that in the end Dipper had a point and the way the alpha held him almost reassured him that this would be okay. Or that he would be forgiven but he wasn’t going to entertain that thought, thanks. The natives killed animals before the Europeans invaded their homes, right? Save for the fact that they tended to use every part of the animal to honor its sacrifice and they themselves didn’t have that sort of time…

 

Maybe he should just pull the trigger and not think about it. Thinking about it would just lead to him chickening out like with that first rabbit that he let get away. If he thought about it like a video game, like with that first rabbit all those years ago, then it’d be a piece of cake!

 

The trigger was squeezed and the shot rang out, echoing in the woods as it bounced from tree to tree. Soft cream colored ears twitched as the deer looked up from grazing on the tall grass, weeds still dangling from its mouth and large, scared brown eyes scanning the immediate area for the source as it ceased to continue to eat. The bullet cut through the air, spiraling as it raced toward its destination without remorse. It lodged itself into the deer’s shoulder blade who in turn huffed a bleat of pain and took off through the trees, twigs and leaves falling to the ground from it’s speed.

 

“Nice one!” Dipper was the first to speak up as he placed a hand on Bill’s back in hopes of easing what little worry he could smell in the other’s scent, almost awestruck that Bill had gone through with it but definitely pleased with the fact they wouldn’t have to track down another one, “Not bad for a first time.”

 

As was Bill’s typical, because Bill was Bill, the omega puffed up pridefully and almost immediately, whole body relaxing into the hand until it was gone as Dipper moved around him to stand and wade through the stream to get to the other side. He could brag more later, and he definitely would because if Dipper was proud of him then of course he did good!

 

“Well, ya know,” Bill stood along with Dipper, following behind him closely just to bask in the scent roiling off of the alpha. Pride wasn’t a bad smell, especially on Dipper, “I am Bill Cipher.”

 

“Don’t ruin it,” though he had chuckled, finding his antics amusing, Dipper didn’t want this small victory to go to Bill’s head. Just because he’d gotten one that didn’t mean he was going to get the others, especially without a bit of guidance from Dipper. Even Dipper had needed help with his first four or five hunting trips and he was an alpha. Not that there were going to be more hunting trips like this, once Ford arrived then it was likely Stan would take his self-appointed job back and Bill and him would have to figure something else out to do together.

 

Wait, had he really just-? That thought made him give pause and Bill had even ran into his back as Dipper physically stopped in his tracks in the middle of the stream. Had he actually just thought about spending more time with Bill, volunteering himself to find something else they could do just to be around the omega? Was he losing his mind? They weren’t friends, were they? Just because they were getting along and tolerating each other, that didn’t mean anything, right? It couldn’t, not what Dipper thought that it meant anyway!

 

“Pine Tree?”

 

“Yup?” his voice was strained and it didn’t help that Bill genuinely sounded worried about him! He was afraid to turn around because he was certain the look on Bill’s face or in his eyes was much worse. His own thoughts were already enough to force him to cancel what little was left of this trip and go home so he could hide away in his cabin for the rest of the day.

 

“Ya gucci?”

 

Jesus, he hated that saying. Bill had said it so often around camp that the younger kids had started to say it and he had dragged Mabel along with them but it was so damn endearing with Bill said it. Nevertheless, he gave a jerky nod of his head, the hold on his own rifle tightening, “Mhm. Just great.”

 

When Bill let go of a small lighthearted chuckle, however, Dipper’s shoulders untensed and he turned to glance over his shoulder to peer at the omega who smiled up at him with a bright lopsided grin, “My socks are gonna get wet the longer we stand in this stream and if they get wet I’m gonna shove ‘em up your ass to dry. So can we sorta get a move on? Please?”

 

They continued to stare at each other for a while longer, minutes ticking away as their eyes locked and it took everything in Dipper to not force Bill up against a tree right then. And as soon as that thought had presented itself his face had erupted in a brilliant shade of red, Bill’s smirk growing as he took notice, and Dipper whirled around to stalk off in the direction of the blood splatter. This had to be instinct, that’s what it was. He was an alpha and Bill was an omega. That’s it. There was nothing else to it.

 

The population was significantly smaller and Dipper knew that better than anyone else. Instinct drove him to seek Bill out, Bill was an omega and Dipper knew they would need each other eventually. Either out of pure necessity or because they were both honestly interested, it didn’t matter, they would seek each other out at some point. Dipper’s alpha instincts craved the contact and what little he’d already had of the omega left him wanting. It wasn’t enough. His ruts alone had been brutal, cruel even, and he was sure Bill’s heats had been the same.

 

It was unfair not being able to hold a genuine relationship with someone simply because the world called on them to repopulate when it needed them to. Maybe he really did like Bill and just wanted to be friends but because of what they were Dipper would never know what that relationship would be like. That nagging ‘what if’ would always be in the back of his mind no matter what they decided for themselves. He had the will to ignore it for as long as he could stand, he had ignored Pacifica for months until Mabel had finally expressed her interests and they started scent marking each other. He could do it again with Bill. 

 

Damn was it going to be hard… Bill was interesting, one of the most interesting omegas he’d met. While some were smart and had caught his eye, none were like Bill. They were typical, wanting to start a family and grow old, be the caretaker and housewife, born and bred omegas that were taught since they’d presented that they couldn’t be anything more. That wasn’t Bill. Bill and risen above his station, had gone to college, sought higher education, learned how to hold a gun and actually shoot it. He could handle himself, Bill didn’t need Dipper to survive, Dipper was merely his back up!

 

Bill was a one of a kind and that drew Dipper in. He was loud, crass, and could be downright rude if someone pushed him hard enough. If that wasn’t attractive then Dipper didn’t know what was.

 

  
“We’ll gut it here,” deer found and thankfully bled out, Dipper’s hunting knife was pulled from its place as he began to cut into it’s skin, skillfully splitting it down its middle as Bill peered from over his shoulder in morbid curiosity.

 

The omega hummed in response, silent for the time being as he was more than content to watch as Dipper stepped back and away once the entrails of the deer poured from it’s stomach and Bill shivered, a disgusted noise coming from his throat, “That’s gross. Sure you don’t need help. You looked distracted earlier.”

 

Damn Bill and him being all sorts of intuitive, “I’m fine,” he lied, hopefully as smoothly as he perceived himself to have had as he took to skinning the deer, “Just a lot on my mind is all.”

 

“You’re not much of an open book, are ya, Pine Tree?” Bill tilted his head, his interest in watching the deer waning as his eyes flickered from the carcass to the alpha now, every so often glancing back down just to spy what Dipper was doing.

 

“I’m not, no,” came the short reply as Dipper huffed, already finished with this conversation. He turned to Bill then, an idea forming, one that would hopefully keep him silent for a while, “How sharp is your knife?”

 

He seemed startled but pulled his own free for Dipper to inspect, holding it out and turning it in his hands for the pair of them to look over, “Pretty sharp, I mean, I sharpen it whenever I can.”

 

“Good,” with a quick jerk of his head, Dipper motioned for Bill to grab hold of the antlers, “Take those and cut ‘em off.”

 

“...Seriously…?”

 

“Yup. Seriously.”

 

“Don’t I need like a hack saw or somethin’...?”

 

“Nope. Hop to it.”

 

Yes, Bill. Yes, a hack saw would get those off, Dipper just wanted you to shut up for a minute. It would work either way. Eventually. It was just that Bill wouldn’t likely stop asking questions and if Bill didn’t stop asking questions then Dipper might actually cave this time. The alpha worked fine under pressure but once upon a time he used to be a ball of anxiety and that anxiety was still there when under the right circumstance. This situation was definitely one of those circumstances. He had never felt like this for another person before. While he’d had dates and had dated none of them had wrapped themselves so thoroughly around him like Bill did. Bill had claws and when someone allowed themselves to be tangled in his web of interest it was hard to get out.

 

Dipper was stuck. He was so insanely interested in the omega that he knew there was no way to climb out. The black widow had him now, he was just waiting to bite. Dipper prayed to God that Bill was oblivious to it, that hopefully he was asking those questions because he truly didn’t know and not because he had an inkling. Bill was perceptive but Dipper wished for some miracle that Bill wasn’t that perceptive. Because he knew that it wasn’t just sexually, he liked Bill’s personality regardless of how their relationship had started.

 

Bill was funny even when the joke was directed at Dipper. Bill was confident, he was so self assured and positive in his own abilities that it made Dipper feel confident when he was around him. A piece of him wished that he couldn’t put this into words because then it would be harder for him to ignore but because he knew exactly why he liked Bill it made it easier to see the omega as a potential mate.

 

“Got one.”

 

His head had whipped upwards so fast that he winced as his neck cricked lightly but it was dropped in favor of staring at the omega in disbelief, “Bull-” but the word died on his tongue as Bill held up an antler and Dipper was left sitting there holding the leg piece of the deer’s fur in shock, mouth agape as he attempt to hunt for words.

 

“Yeah, I knew you were just tryna keep me busy or tryna get me to shut up,” Bill snorted matter-of-factly and tossed the antler toward the alpha before holding up a piece of fine string as if in showcase, a smug grin splitting his smooth features, “I used this to cut wood once upon a time. I’m not an idiot.”

 

“Huh,” was all Dipper could muster and his heart danced in his chest. Another reason to toss into the pile of why he was slowly falling for Bill.

 

If he could do it without the other squealing for joy and bounding off to propose to the omega in his place, he’d ask Mabel for advice but his stomach lurched in protest and he was sure he was about to throw up, anxiety already telling him that was a bad idea as soon as the thought had crossed his mind. What was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he could take the risk. Protection like birth control and condoms hardly existed now a days. Finding things like those in town was something akin to finding a damn unicorn - at least Mabel would be excited - and Dipper didn’t want to force a decision like that onto Bill.

 

They could very well throw caution to the wind and do so anyway, raise the child as co-parents and enjoy their ruts and heats together as friends but something in him told him that wouldn’t end well eventually. Bill was still young himself. Twenty-four years young, as a matter of fact. That almost made Dipper cringe outwardly, the omega was so much younger than he was. How could he keep forgetting something like that? Maybe Bill wouldn’t mind but Dipper definitely would. Omegas were born to breed and even if they weren’t taught that breeding was their purpose when given the choice, instincts won and they often chose it over other options. 

 

Bill could surprise him, as Bill often times did, and would tell Dipper to his face he didn’t want a child but even if Dipper knew that Bill might say yes he still wanted to talk about it when the time was right. Once their instincts aligned, once their instincts recognized that they wanted each other and would seek each other out in a time of need, they needed to have that conversation before something bad happened. There wasn’t any other way around it that Dipper could think of because if Dipper ever walked in on Bill in heat then he knew he wasn’t going to have the power to walk back out without acting.

 

“I think you’re done.”

 

“Wha- How the hell are you even done??” Dipper had looked up to check on Bill’s progress when the omega spoke up, he himself busy with rolling the meat into the skin of the deer, only to find that Bill had long since been lounging against the tree nearest them simply watching him.

 

“I showed you,” his brows furrowed as he stood, steps self-assured as he closed the distance between them to pick up Dipper’s rifle before the alpha forgot it, “Unless you have short-term memory loss or something, Dory.”

 

“Does this make you Marlin?” the words were grunted as Dipper hefted the skin onto his shoulder once he was standing and he smirked at the other, “And does this mean we’re traveling to Sidney in search of your son?”

 

“Plot twist, my son’s been dead for a long time and I’ve just been extremely lonely and haven’t had the heart to tell you.”

 

“You have a morbid sense of humor, Bill,” Dipper laughed softly, motioning for said omega to lead the way as his other arm remained secure around the bundle laying on his shoulder but since Bill brought it up, “Is that what you really think about kids?”

 

At first the blonde had looked up at him in confusion, brows knit together and eyes clouding over before he was looking off in the direction ahead of them to pay attention to where they were going with a quick shrug of his shoulders, “Not really but I haven’t given a lot of thought to them. Why?”

 

“Most omegas have their whole life planned out already by your age. I was just curious,” that sounded sincere enough, hopefully Bill didn’t catch on.

 

Bill hummed, keeping silent for a while as they walked, leaves and twigs snapping and crunching below their feet. He didn’t look up at Dipper for a while and Dipper could tell he was thinking hard about what he’d said. It wasn’t how he had thought they’d have the discussion, it was a far more serious matter than branching off from a joke but Bill had presented the opportunity and Dipper was already in the mindset. Not ideal and Bill smelled the slightest bit uncomfortable, but it made Dipper all the more curious. If Bill truly didn’t want to talk about it then they wouldn’t. This is where it would end if Bill didn’t continue himself but if he did…

 

“Maybe one or two. Eventually.”

 

Bill’s voice had almost startled him and he had glanced down at the omega in surprise, his soft voice seeming to come from out of nowhere but Dipper nodded in understanding, “Just not yet.”

 

“Yeah,” Bill nodded back as he tried not to shuffle his feet while he walked beside the alpha, voice still just as gentle and soft as before, “Just not yet.”

 

Seems they would still have to talk about it when the time came because it was inevitable at this point. Or Dipper would have to invoke the power of Thor to keep himself away from Bill whenever the omega’s next heat hits. Maybe he could just lock himself away in his own cabin for the week. Mabel was damn near mated by this point, she could keep watch over Bill while he set about trying not to take advantage of the poor kid. It was a solution. Not the best of one but a solution nonetheless.

 

Dipper popped the trunk of his Jeep once they had reached it and laid the bundle of skin, meat, and antlers inside. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice how Bill walked by him to settle in the passenger seat without saying much of anything, laying both of their rifles in the back seat and buckling up by his lonesome. The conversation must have gotten to him. As an omega it wasn’t something that was out of the ordinary, by the age that Bill was it was almost unheard of to see an unmated omega without at least two children by now. Bill had shown the world it was possible, that they didn’t have to conform. He had probably been asked what his opinion on the matter was more times than he could count.

 

Now that he was paying attention, the scent that followed Bill’s trail was dripping in an odd sense of self-doubt and almost self-loathing. Where was that coming from? No matter what Bill felt those were the last two things Dipper would ever think to associate with the omega. A confused and disapproving frown cut itself into his features and Dipper rounded the Jeep himself to climb into the driver’s seat.

 

He wanted to ask, wanted to reassure Bill, but he knew that Bill would deny whatever it was that Dipper smelled. Bill was a private person and he hated that he didn’t know how to mask his smell like Dipper could. Bill hated that he was an open book for everyone to read and that’s what made him so intrigued with Dipper to begin with, it didn’t take the alpha long to figure that out. A small, rough sigh left Dipper as he pushed the key into the ignition and turned it over. Maybe once they were closer he could ask. They could talk about whatever it was that had Bill feeling this way. Because Dipper didn’t like this smell, it didn’t suit Bill. 

 

The camp came into view sooner than Dipper would have liked for it to. Once Bill had calmed himself thanks to the self-induced silence that Dipper enforced on them it was a fairly pleasant ride considering they had a rotting corpse in the trunk. They’d each kept to themselves mostly but on the off chance that Dipper would glance over to steal a peek at Bill he would catch the omega staring at him from the corner of his eye. While it was obvious they had a rocky relationship there might be something there and maybe Mabel was onto something. 

 

No way in hell was he going to say that to her because he was never going to be allowed to live it down, but he could definitely feel it.

 

“I’m gonna go check on Pyronica,” Bill had turned to give Dipper a small and genuine smile once they’d both exited the vehicle and met at the trunk of the Jeep, “Maybe take a nap or something.”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure. Want me to walk you home?”

 

Bill snorted lightheartedly, shoving Dipper by the shoulder, “The fuck is this, _prom_? Gonna kiss me goodnight, too? Go on and turn that into the kitchen before Question Mark beats your ass.”

 

“Yes, sir!” Dipper’s back shot ramrod straight as he saluted Bill, stone faced and cold as he eyed the omega down, “Reporting to the kitchens, sir!”

 

There was a small beat of silence, Bill staring up at Dipper with an unreadable expression on his features before he laughed and rolled his eyes almost _fondly_ and Dipper’s heart fluttered in his chest once more before Bill spoke mid-laugh, “Get outta here.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” dropping his hand from his forehead, Dipper smiled back softly, slipping the bundle of deer whatsit from his trunk and hauling it over his shoulder, “Night, Bill.”

 

For a time he couldn’t force himself to move from his spot at the trunk of the Jeep and instead watched as Bill sauntered his way toward the cabins. That had been the most civil conversation they’d had since they’d met. Bill had actually laughed _with_ him instead of _at_ him. Dipper wasn’t sure what this was between the pair of them but whatever it was, Dipper knew he wanted it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to kick up. Enjoy the cliff hanger! Mwuahahahaha!
> 
> Really though, my only reason for this is so that a milestone happens on chapter ten because that sounds beyond perfect so I apologize.

Dipper smelled so much better when he wasn’t masking his scent and his hoodie was a treasure trove of concentrated alpha pheromones. Bill hadn’t meant to take his hoodie home when they had parted ways two nights ago but since he _had_ he was unabashedly curled up in the corner of his wicker couch sniffing the absolute hell out of the jacket, mostly the hood. Something in him told him that he should return it and he knew that but whenever he made the steps to do so he always talked himself out of it. Probably because it smelled like heaven and that was likely the closest Bill was ever going to get to the pearly gates. It wasn’t often that Bill could find an alpha he liked the scent of. Most were too strong or too weak or just plain disgusting. Either that or the alphas themselves were simply unpleasant, boasting and bragging about sexual prowess but when the time came they had nothing to show for it. He hated those the most, talk about dashing someone’s hopes. High school was bad enough but college was the epitome of _basic alpha syndrome_ , Bill had grown tired of them and only flirt come pre-heat when a temporary mate had become necessary.

 

But Dipper was so much different than them. He never bragged about anything and if he did then Mabel was always one step behind him to knock him down a peg and keep him humble. When Dipper _did_ show off then it was usually because he was honestly trying to teach Bill something, hunting for example, and not because he was intending to actually be a show off. It was a miracle Bill hadn’t been forced to walk home with slick covered jeans two days ago, watching Dipper be so focused, have the alpha’s hands on him, feel his breath ghosting the nape of his neck… An alpha in their element was a scent that Bill was never able to witness and he had the luxury of doing so that day. Damn did he love every minute of it too. And don’t even get Bill started on what Dipper smelled like when the alpha came wandering out of his cabin **freshly showered**! All calm and relaxed, unfocused so his scent was thinly wafting in the air, hair still damp and skin glistening with drying water...

 

A shiver tore down his spine at the thought and Bill had to drop the hoodie with a groan before he got carried away with his own thoughts. Bill was more than just a little attracted to the alpha and he could admit that. If Dipper wouldn’t guard himself so often then maybe Bill wouldn’t feel so addicted to his scent, wouldn’t feel the need to hunt it down every chance he got. He felt like a creep sitting here smelling Dipper’s hoodie but it wasn’t as if he was presented with the opportunity to bask in it often. Dipper didn’t allow it enough. The alpha took his own liberties when he felt like it and Bill would have to be a special brand of stupid not to feel Dipper’s nose in his hair on the occasion they were standing side by side. Or his eyes on his back as he was walking away that night, the alpha watching him like a starving wolf.

 

“I got it bad, don’t I, Py?” his voice was soft as he spoke, eyes finally flickering away from his lap, and the hoodie, to glance at the pit bull who had been lounging at his side on her back without a care in the world. His scent was likely dripping with self-loathing because this was a new low for him, but Dipper was something else. Bill didn’t want to venture so far as to calling the alpha ‘special’ just yet because it was far too soon for such a connotation but Dipper was definitely something.

 

With eyes sparkling of adoration and love, Pyronica rolled over onto her stomach quickly and rested her chin against Bill’s knee to peer up at him. Of course she couldn’t answer him but if Bill didn’t know any better he would assume that she found this funny. Or at least found something about this funny, her tail was wagging a mile a minute but that could be for the simple attention she was receiving now. 

 

There were times he would come home from a date and do nothing but complain to her about them. Either the alpha was too short or too tall. Maybe he hadn’t held the door for him or the opposite he had expected Bill to pay for everything. Bill wasn’t helpless and didn’t mind splitting a tab but on a first date the least they could do was show some damn respect. While he didn’t need babied or spoiled, even though he would enjoy it, the least they could do was hold a door open for him! None of the alphas he met on campus while going to college had impressed him before the dead began to walk and for a long while Dipper had been one of them.

 

He was guarded and glared at him often even after they had arrived at this small camp Bill now called home. Every time they talked their conversations ended in a half argument or a snarky comment on Bill’s behalf simply because Bill wanted to get on Dipper’s nerves. They hadn’t gotten along well at all when they had first met but something had shifted over the past few weeks that Bill couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it was instinct that was drawing them together or maybe Bill was genuinely interested, he couldn’t tell, but he knew that some part of him wanted Dipper. In what way remained to be seen, the alpha was older than him so that led him to believe he was vastly more experienced so that meant he knew more about relationships than Bill himself. Dipper would take his time and Bill was, by all accounts, an impatient omega.

 

With it being the end of the damn world they didn’t really have the _luxury_ of time on their hands anyway. And what was that question about children two days back? Had Dipper felt this connection as well? Was he already trying to feel it out for himself? It wasn’t as if finding protection was going to be easy. Five years down the road and everyone already having as much unprotected sex as they could? There was no way they could happen across any sort of pharmacy or convenient store that had any sort of condoms still laying around, at least not any that weren’t used. Those were the first to go missing in the pharmacy Robbie worked in so if that didn’t say all it had to about the rest of the world…

 

“Shit…” the word was hissed ruefully before Bill was threading his fingers into his blonde locks and pulling in an attempt to reign in his own thoughts or maybe for a chance at some clarity. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Dipper and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about what could happen if they found each other on the end of a rut or a heat.

 

No protection meant children. While it was harder for him to become pregnant out of heat as a male omega, asking his alpha - look at him already considering Dipper his alpha, oh boy - to not help him through a heat for however long it would take for him to be okay with the idea was almost unacceptable. Dipper would put up a fuss eventually. Maybe one or two heats was fine but soon enough whatever resolve Dipper has would crumble and crumble quick. Alphas hated when their omegas were in pain and heats were the epitome. Besides, mating without the distraction of a heat was almost unbearable, he’d heard quite the number of horror stories. Just the thought of the painful mating bite was enough to shoot that thought down with a metaphorical nuke and he’d subconsciously began to rub at his neck over the scent gland where an alpha would intend to mark him with a pained expression on his face. He was tough but not that tough. 

 

There was also no way in hell Bill could ask Dipper to pull out in the middle of his heat because his heat would eventually start talking for him and Bill was, admittedly, very convincing when he wanted to be. With enough eyelash batting and plenty of cooed ‘please alpha’ in Dipper’s ear the older would be putty in his hands in no time. Knotting would happen most assuredly and pulling out wasn’t even a proven method to prevent pregnancy anyway… 

 

Perhaps they could make their own protection? Way back when they used the lining of the sheep’s intestine to make condoms and Dipper hunted deer for the camp. If Bill convinced the alpha to do so, to bring back the whole deer instead of just the parts, then Bill could make a few. Chances were, unfortunately, that whatever few he could make wouldn’t be enough to last them and newly mated pairs enjoyed their alone time in bed so they would end up running out rather quick. Heats weren’t all that frequent but that didn’t mean anything. They could happen at any point in time, the world wasn’t safe enough for him to look at someone and ask for a week off like he could before and that meant they needed to be prepared.

 

Another rough sigh left Bill as he scrubbed his hands over his face in worry, back bending over the armrest of the couch as he stretched and groaned out a pitiful, “Why is this so hard?!” 

 

“Why is what so hard?”

 

Though the voice had startled him and he’d sat up fast enough to make himself dizzy, every fiber of his being fearing that Mabel had come to collect and his hand wrapped around the hoodie in order to toss it behind the cushion of his couch, he sighed in half relief and half annoyance as his eyes locked with Pacifica’s form while the blonde closed his front door back. They had taken to visiting one another on occasion when their duties permitted it but he’d neglected to inform her of the hoodie dilemma. He’d been so lost in thought, battling with himself on how to return it without sounding so entirely and completely stupid that he’d never told her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t great at advice because she could be, far better than Mabel tried to be; poor girl could give the best advice to Dipper but any other person was left afloat in the sea of their own misfortune, it was that he was afraid of her reaction. What other sort of reaction could a person have to a conversation like this?

 

He’s literally been sitting here on his couch sniffing Dipper’s hoodie, it was weird and he knew it, he didn’t need Pacifica to confirm it for him!

 

Unfortunately her eyes caught sight of the dark blue hoodie faster than he could stuff it behind the pillows off his couch and her eyebrows shot up in confused interest. Their eyes locked once more as they sat at a standstill, Bill gripping the jacket for dear life as he was halfway through shoving it into its hiding place and Pacifica eyeing his every movements like a mother lion ready for the pounce. It was hard for him to tell exactly what she was thinking and all he could smell in her scent was a thick confusion that laid heavily in the air. Words died in his throat as he tried to speak, probably some half-assed excuse as to why he had the hoodie and more importantly why he was trying to hide it but instead his fingers caught themselves in the wool as he fidgeted nervously. Something needed to be said and Bill knew this but how was he going to explain it, especially considering he was just trying to hide it?

 

He should have come forward sooner even if it were only to Pacifica. She was mated to a Pines twin, she knew what they both were like. If anyone could give him the best of the best advice then he knew it would have been Pacifica but he was so embarrassed by this that he was wary. This had never happened to him before!

 

“So,” Pacifica started slowly as her arms finally came up to cross about her chest, her eyebrows dropping to knit in a form of studious observation before she continued just as slow as she began, “mind explaining what Dipper’s hoodie is doing here? More importantly, what Dipper’s hoodie is doing here in your lap?”

 

“Not particularly,” he had tried to go for a nonchalant smile, had tried to feign an easy going posture, but his scent was going to end up betraying him because he was anything but nonchalant.

 

The other omega hummed her disapproval, arms still crossed, as she shifted from one foot to the other to cock her hip. She wasn’t buying it and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out she was simply trying to draw her own conclusion without having to ask. Bill could be just as guarded Dipper the only difference was that he couldn’t mask his scent as well as the alpha could. The one thing he was good at was giving half-truths and diverting conversations when he felt uncomfortable or attacked.

 

“Why not?”

 

Her question came faster than Bill anticipated and it left him scrambling for an answer as his throat ran dry. He wasn’t entirely sure how to reply, Bill loved to talk but there were times that he tended to talk too much. Sometimes he would say more than intended or blurt things out in the worst of times - like that time he had called his aunt a ‘whale’ at his uncle’s funeral when he was five, his father hadn’t enjoyed that one and neither did his aunt. If he wasn’t careful then he might unexpectedly reveal everything.

 

So he shrugged instead before he reclined back into his spot on the couch, a simple smile splitting his features smoothly, “Just don’t.”

 

“Please,” a scoff followed the word as Pacifica rolled her eyes and she advanced a step, her hands twitching as her eyes landed on the hoodie. Maybe she should make a grab for it and gauge by his reaction, “You love to brag. If you and Dipper did something then you’d waste no time.”

 

“We haven’t done anything!” the words were almost screeched as Bill straightened in his seat, back ram rod and eyes narrowed spitefully though the glare was ruined by the scarlet dusting his cheeks.

 

Pacifica threw her arms up into the air in frustration before motioning to the hoodie, “Then why is it here?? He hasn’t even been looking for it so I know he knows it's here!”

 

While Dipper knowing it was here didn’t come to a surprise, he had watched Bill walk off while wearing it after all, but the fact that he wasn’t actively trying to get it back definitely did. Did he not want it back? Or was he allowing Bill to keep it for as long as he wanted? Did the alpha think that Bill wanted to keep it?

 

It wasn’t that Bill didn’t want to because if Dipper asked then the answer would be a loud ‘yes’ and Bill’s constant failure to return it probably made it seem like an obvious answer. But the fact that he’d already slacked off on two jobs to stay at home and indulge in the scent was alarming. His instincts were getting in the way and it would be better if the hoodie was returned, for all parties. 

 

“I uhm,” Bill paused, eyes darting down to the hoodie in his lap as his thumb continued to rub  smooth circles into the fabric softly, “he gave it to me when we went hunting…”

 

“And?”

 

Damn her. Bill snarled softly but he couldn’t bring himself to feel any sort of true anger at her question, she was simply trying to understand what the hell was going on even if he didn’t know to the full extent himself. The whole situation confused him so he was damn sure there was no way he could properly explain it to someone else.

 

“And I just never gave it back,” another pause as he allowed his gaze to finally drift back up toward her, taking note that she had closed the distance between them likely so she could get a read on hsi thoughts through his scent. Good luck because he didn’t even understand what was running through his own head.

 

Silence settled between them again as Pacifica’s eyes flitted across his features swiftly, likely looking for any sign that he wasn’t telling the full truth. It had becoming crystal clear that Bill didn’t always tell the truth or sometimes embellished what was the truth and Pacifica was becoming quite skilled in reading through his ‘bullshit’ as she enjoyed calling it.

 

Bill wished to whatever higher power above that this was all it was. Some big Bill Cipher tall tale that he was making up to impress someone but it wasn’t. He wished that this was all an elaborate story thought up by his vast imagination, wished that he had the willpower to return the jacket, wished he hadn’t been caught with it. But if Dipper wasn’t looking to take it back then didn’t that make it okay? Didn’t that mean he could keep it? At least for a while longer?

 

“Dipper Pines just gave you his hoodie, the hoodie he hardly ever takes off mind you, and let you walk off with it? Without coming to take it back?” her words were dripping with scepticism and her hands plastered themselves to her hips as hair from the movement cascaded down over her shoulder. Her eyes shone with equal amounts of confusion and Bill wasn’t sure what to say that would make it sound more believable.

 

He knew it sounded strange. For as long as he had known Dipper, which wasn’t long, he never saw Dipper treat anyone out of the ordinary. Everyone was given the same treatment, same temperament, the same Dipper. The alpha would go out of his way for everyone but Bill wasn’t likely one of those people. When he’d first arrived all the pair had done was complain about each other. He knew why it was hard for her to understand how their relationship had come to this, Bill didn’t even know.

 

“I guess?” eyebrows knit together in confusion, Bill shrugged softly before they sagged almost in defeat. He wasn’t sure how else he could explain it, it had just happened. Maybe Dipper had forgotten to take it from him that night. Or maybe he simply didn’t care that Bill had it. But one thing was for certain, Dipper was hardly ever seen without it unless it was being washed. He wouldn’t give it to just anybody and Bill and Pacifica both knew this. How Bill had slotted himself into a place in Dipper’s life that made him important enough to be given the damn thing was confusing enough, thanks for making it obvious Pacifica.

 

It was just a hoodie. All of this over one hoodie. So what if Dipper hadn’t come for it yet, it wasn’t like Bill wasn’t responsible. There hadn’t been a time during his entire stay that he had ruined or otherwise destroyed something that someone had given him. Not that he couldn’t because he definitely could but he knew it was better to attempt to play nice here than not. He wasn’t the most trustworthy person and he could admit that but he knew how to take care of other people’s things. So maybe Dipper simply just didn’t care that Bill had it because he knew Bill would take care of it?

 

That had to be it, there was no other explanation. Instincts were trying to pull them together but it took more than that for a pair to bond. Right?

 

“Well,” she had rolled her eyes, clearly more than finished with this conversation because she wasn’t getting the answer she was looking for, before she was already turning to leave, “Ford’s here. He just arrived and was already looking for you.”

 

“For me…? Shouldn’t he be, I dunno, spending time with his family?” the words were spoken with mild disgust because that’s what Bill would be doing if he were in Ford’s position. If his family were alive and he’d found them again then he knew that they would be his first priority. It didn’t matter how important this project or ‘job detail’ was because family always came first and it took the literal apocalypse for Bill to see that. 

 

Pacifica shrugged as she yanked the front door open, her free hand motioning for Bill to stand and follow, “Don’t ask me, he’s weird, always has been. He said he wanted to check in on you.”

 

His brows furrowed and for a moment all he could do was stare at the other with an unreadable expression plastered on his face. During his schooling career Bill had many teachers and Stanford Pines didn’t even rank in his top twenty and was by no means his favorite professor. Bill couldn’t remember them being all that close either. There were times perhaps that Bill had come to him for advice but with a man who had a family full of alphas, as Ford so lovingly admitted from time to time with a hint of resentment to his voice, there wasn’t much life advice that Bill could gleam from the older man. So why was Ford so worried about him that he was going to, in other words, blow off his family just to see him?

 

It hadn’t taken long for Bill to realize that the one who had all the answers wasn’t Dipper. All of those times that Bill remained angry at the alpha because he thought he was hiding something was for nothing because Dipper didn’t know anything whatsoever. But for the life of him Bill didn’t know who did. It was obvious the military wanted him for something and Bill knew that much simply because of Dipper’s mere existence but the fact that Ford was somehow involved never threw up any red flags for him. It was weird, of course, but he didn’t think the beta was capable of hurting him.

 

Now it seems he could have been wrong this entire time. Ford might not hurt him but he might could. Dipper didn’t know what Ford wanted, at the time the questions were about the military however but the answers still remained the same. Bill was a job detail and that’s all Dipper knew the fact that Ford had given him the job to begin with was overlooked simply because Dipper was military and that had to have meant there was a higher calling. 

 

Some scientist who worked with plants couldn’t be interested in him, it all just seemed too far fetched. What did plants even have to do with the military to begin with? It hadn’t added up at the time so Bill had been content with blaming Dipper and his superiors until he got an answer, either from Dipper who someone else in the military. Now he was more confused than when he had started.

 

“Better not keep ol’ Sixer waiting, huh?” the words were meant to be confident but he didn’t feel it any. The emotion was easy enough to fake because he was confident so often but meeting Ford again, knowing that Ford was more than just a little involved, scared him to his core. What was Ford going to say? What was he going to do? Was this really just a simple ‘check in’ like he claimed?

 

The sun was already setting when they had stepped out of his cabin, the boards of the porch creaking with their every step as Pacifica escorted him and Pyronica down the stairs, the pit bull trotting along at his side. If it weren’t for the fact that Ford had called on him to ‘check in’ then this would have been a beautiful evening otherwise. The sky was painted a bright orange, pink lining the horizon as the sun began its slow descent. Soon the moon would rise and crickets would fill the silence of the night air and lightning bugs would take their flight. Pyronica and him had taken to sitting outside before bed just to enjoy it. Without all the pollution now it was easier to see the stars.

 

But instead of being able to enjoy the happy sunset, Bill could hear his heart racing a mile a minute as his blood pumped through his veins rapidly, could feel it pounding against his ribcage harshly in fact. It was threatening to bust through his very being with how hard it was beating. He shouldn’t feel this anxious to meet someone who he had called ‘professor’ for three years but he was. And try as he might no amount of crunching gravel or rock kicking could keep his attention away from the fact that he was truly terrified of this man. Something deep inside of him screamed danger and his instincts were sounding the alarm for him to run.

 

He shouldn’t be and he knew this. Ford wasn’t an alpha. While a beta could still very well overpower him Bill would at least have a fighting chance with him, could do just a much damage as the beta could. Not to mention the fact that Ford was older even if the man seemed to be relatively healthy so by comparison Bill shouldn’t have any issues with protecting himself. There shouldn’t be anything to be afraid of, Bill doubted Ford had arrived with the entirety of the military at his back or there would be far more fanfare than Pacifica being the one sent to fetch him. But Bill couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, that this wasn’t just Ford returning home. Ford was here on business.

 

By all accounts, Ford was a scientist. By proxy, that technically made Bill one as well, he was so close to getting his minors and it wasn’t his fault that the world had ended. They knew each other but they just didn’t know each other well enough that Bill couldn’t see Ford as just a scientist anymore, as just his old professor. Ford was working with the military for some reason or another and for some reason or another they had called on Ford to seek Bill out. There was no other explanation.

 

Should he tell Dipper? Confide in the alpha about how he felt? Currently Dipper was the only alpha in the camp that he truly trusted, at least with this. While Bill knew that if he needed to that he could ask Mabel for help, he doubted that Mabel knew anything. She had walked in on plenty of their arguments, gotten in between a few of them when they became too heated, but Bill felt closer to Dipper. Somehow that didn’t even make sense to him because he shouldn’t feel safe around Dipper. Dipper had been stalking him for the past five years after all. But the thought of Dipper being involved in this, in knowing something even after all the times he tried to convince Bill that he didn’t? The thought of Dipper leaving him at whatever torture the military had planned for him? It made his heart sink, made a ball of worry settle in the pit of his stomach and he hated the feeling.

 

Dipper would help him if Ford tried to force him into something he didn’t want to do, Bill knew that he would. Or he hoped he would at least.

 

The sinking feeling only worsened as he rounded the corner with Pacifica and laid eyes on Ford, Stan, and Dipper. The three were talking among themselves in a group and that was only a tad bit unsettling to the omega. Thankfully the beta had his back turned toward him so Bill could attempt to collect himself as he made his way toward them but Dipper caught sight of him rather quickly. He faltered in his steps when their eyes locked, even contemplated on stopping entirely so he wouldn’t have to face Ford while still clearly smelling of fear, but he gave the alpha a confident smile and a wink as he took bigger strides. It was easy to hide the emotion through his body language, having perfected the skill long ago when he was a young teen, but his scent was going to be a different story altogether. 

 

“Hey, Sixer,” he rounded the group slowly as Pacifica and him parted ways. Everything in him screamed danger so he kept his eyes on the beta as the older turned to face him and tried to  ignore the worried expression on Dipper’s own features. Bill made positive the side he had walked on led him to stop beside said alpha because standing next to Stan didn’t seem all that safe or smart. The first person to turn on him would be the beta’s twin brother should the opportunity present itself and Bill refused to leave himself open for such an attempt. It was safest to stand next to Dipper, at least his instincts would call for him to act even if they had only grown just a little close.

 

“Bill,” Ford wore an unreadable expression as he turned to face the omega but the smile he tried on was meant to come off as passive, maybe even welcoming, “How have you been?”

 

A shrug was meant to be Bill’s only answer to that question simply because it wasn’t any of Ford’s business but something in him possessed him to talk. Probably the fact that he could never shut up even when he knew he should, “Ya know, running from alphas, stepping into fox traps, the typical apocalypse shenanigans.”

 

“Fox traps…?” his brows knit in confusion and Ford’s eyes flickered up to Dipper, disapproval flashing across his dark brown orbs, before Ford was smiling toward Bill once more in fake pleasantness, “Well, you’ve come to the right place for medical treatment. Wendy’s well educated.”

 

“As I’m aware,” maybe he should try harder to hide the malcontent in his voice, definitely in his face because that bright smile he’d been wearing had faded into a scowl, but it was starting to become a task. He hated that Ford was trying to pretend like nothing was happening, that he wasn’t planning something. Maybe it was fooling everyone else but Bill was onto him. Bill wasn’t stupid.

 

He adjusted his stance, inadvertently shuffling closer to Dipper in the processes, before he was clearing his throat in hopes of dispersing the tension between them. It was thick and it wasn’t going to help anything. Thank Odin that Pyronica was standing closely beside his hip, tail still wagging but eyes focused on Ford as her stance stiffened in preparation to pounce. If he was going to get any sort of answers out of his conversations with Ford then he needed to pretend as well, pretend that he didn’t know something was going on behind the scenes. Ford needed to trust him. So he smiled brightly, hands clasping themselves behind his back as he spoke evenly, “So, Portland, hm? Weird to be traveling for work still, huh?”

 

“It is but,” Ford cleared his own throat, shifting from one foot to the other as he turned to face Bill better, his own hands stuffing themselves in the pockets of his trench coat, “when duty calls and all. You know that. Don’t you, Bill?”

 

Was it just him or did that sound ominous? He remembered a few lectures where Ford had told the class that they needed to make themselves available once they’d left college and entered a career of their choice but in this instance? It sounded like a death threat and there was no keeping the mistrust from coloring his eyes a dark blue as they narrowed at the beta before him, smile dropping once more. Stan was standing beside Ford smiling, entirely oblivious to what was going on between the pair, but Bill could feel Dipper step just an inch closer to him and could even feel his fingers twitch against his hip in an attempt to grab but was refraining. Ford’s eyes were on them and Bill knew it would look odd for Dipper to wrap an arm around him and pull him close even if nothing was going on between them.

 

“I do. You never shut up about it,” that was meant playfully and he had even gone as far as replacing the scowl he’d slipped into with a smile, or would have been playful had the situation not been so stressful. His entire body was tense, shoulders tight and back rigid, he didn’t want to be standing this close to Ford and Stan’s attempts to appear taller than both Ford and Dipper weren’t appreciated. 

 

Maybe the other was just extremely happy, elated even, that his twin brother was home and there wasn’t anything behind it but it made Bill feel uneasy. It made Bill feel like Stan was in on whatever Ford had planned even though he knew better. Stan didn’t know who he was like Dipper had. Dipper knew his name from the start whereas Stan hadn’t even bothered to try and remember it. He wanted to scoot closer to Dipper, to soak up whatever safety he could from the alpha but he refrained. No need to force Ford to keep a watchful eye on him further, he already felt it would be hard enough to escape the man’s scrutiny. 

 

“Horde!!”

 

As the word was all but wailed from the main gate loudly in a desperate call for everyone in the camp to act, the four of them stood at attention as their eyes darted toward the gate. That sinking feeling that Bill had felt from the moment he set eyes on Ford had just gotten worse and he had to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape him. Dipper, likely already sensing the more than obvious distress, stepped in front of Bill almost protectively, one arm wrapping around Bill to force the omega to keep behind him while Stan made a grab for Ford to pull the beta closer. To see around the taller alpha, Bill had to lean to his left just to peer around his broad shoulders as he tried to see through the chain link fencing that made up the gate. While a few of the alphas who signed up as guards scrambled around them, guns and other various weapons in hand, the four of them couldn’t help but stare as the first of the horde crested the hill. 

 

A few Bill recognized, some were even his classmates from college or old classmates from high school, but the rest? There was no counting the sheer number of people in that group, as they continued to walk the more heads popped over the horizon as they marched loudly toward the gate. He remembered reports on the radio of an influx in people moving in from California before the radios lost their signals. They had tried to sneak into Canada but were stopped in Oregon at a Red Cross checkpoint and unfortunately that checkpoint had been just outside their town square. Everyone had needed to be tested for the virus before leaving the country so as to prevent carrying it over the border and things had quickly gone downhill from there. Add an influx of over more than a thousand people to the population of Gravity Falls and this horde could easily destroy that gate. It was flimsy and was held together by welded pieces of scrap metal, it was obviously meant to keep people and the random undead out but not an entire horde.

 

“Bill,” Dipper’s voice was rough and full of authority as the alpha glanced over his shoulder to eye him, his hand tightening around Bill’s arm before releasing finally, “Get your gun and get it **now**.”


	10. Chapter 10

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

Heads popped in a splash of gory red in his scope like morbid watermelons and bodies fell one by one to the hard concrete or soft dirt as his rifle dispensed shell casing after shell casing. The gate had long since been destroyed, crushed under the weight of the many undead that had attempted to force their way in by merely running into it. Soon enough they had discovered that pushing against it wouldn’t work and the small pile had grown into a large grouping. They had climbed over top of each other in attempts to reach the lone guard stationed in the lookout tower and that alone had been enough to do in the poor excuse for a door. It bent inwards under their combined weight of near three thousand strong, groaning all the while, and had collapsed to the ground with a heap of rotting corpses following quickly after it like dominoes. Those unfortunate enough to have been caught under it, trying to spear the undead through the fence with knives or machetes, were long since lost either having been trampled or worse.

 

Currently Bill had stationed himself behind the counter of Soos’ mechanic workshop. It was an opened area, built by hand swiftly and roughly so that anyone who needed his services could leave their things at the desk and be about their merry way. The man was originally the cook because they were so short handed but he had assured Bill that he could multitask when he had arrived. Probably because Bill was skeptical about the food and had even stared at it in disgust when he’d watched the man cook but that was simply because he didn’t want to digest motor oil. How disgusting would that be? Sadly that was a story for another day.

 

He had lost count of how many had poured through the now opened doorway and he’d lost track of most of the camp’s survivors as they'd tried to back up and keep their ranks. Everyone had split up, scrambling to grab an appropriate weapon or to grab their families and hide in what they assumed was the safest part of the camp, wherever _that_ was. Bill wasn’t even sure how many of them were left now. They were twenty strong when he had arrived here but he doubted they were even half that now.

 

Bill had arrived later to this party than he would have liked, his penchant for being fashionably late was more than just a habit it seems. One reason being he was locking Pyronica up in the cabin. If this was how he was going to leave this world then he was going to be damned if Pyronica suffered the same fate. Another reason being he made a grab for Dipper’s hoodie and had slipped it on. Bill radiated confidence on a good day and oozed it on a bad day but something about facing a horde this large? Killing things that used to be people that were traveling in a collective like this? It almost felt right to have it on, almost felt safe. Like he could take on the world while wearing it.

 

Fifteen.

 

He’d already shot fifteen of them and there were _still_ more stumbling in through the broken gate. They were tripping over fencing and fallen survivors, stumbling by downed undead as if they were nothing. Their entire being was focused solely on what was in front of them, on _whoever_ was in front of them. Some were quicker than others, Bill had noticed, and that meant they either hadn’t been dead long or had been dead far longer and he wasn’t sure if either of those two things were a good thing or not. His eyes scanned the area before him as he straightened from peering trough his scope, still crouched down behind the counter to remain hidden. A worry gnawed at him and he couldn’t shake it. He wasn’t friends with many people here but he _did_ like a few. Just the thought of finding them dead or seeing them be eaten shook something inside of him that he couldn’t put a word to. 

 

It was new. He’d had friends before and had cared for them. At one point he was sure he would have done anything for them but this was different. It felt different. He felt like he was going to lose more than just friends and he didn’t like that feeling. It ate at him, clawed at his insides, screamed for him to move but he stayed. Something told him that Dipper would likely kill him if he put himself in danger and Bill wasn’t a fan of being lectured when he knew he could handle himself.

 

His teeth worried at his bottom lip before he growled low in frustration and peered through his scope again, aiming at the crowd and shooting at another lone undead wandering in ahead of the rest of the group. Luckily the gunfire from the others were drowning out his own but he knew he’d need to invest in a suppressor sooner rather than later. For his own safety primarily but also because they sounded cool.

 

Sixteen.

 

Seventeen.

 

Eighteen.

 

Screaming. It resonated loudly throughout the area. It _encompassed_ the area, in fact, drowned it. Every sound seemed to deafen at the height of it, Bill couldn't even hear the wildlife anymore. Everyone was hurt or injured or were being injured. No one was safe and Bill was sure most of those screams were the sound of someone dying a gruesomely horrible death. It hurt him to think that could be Pacifica. Or Mabel. Or Wendy.

 

Or Dipper.

 

What if it was? What if those screams belonged to Dipper? That thought forced his entire body to freeze, his blood running cold as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head and his trigger finger pulled off quickly before he could shoot another bullet - he didn't want to miss and waste a shot. What if Dipper was hurt? What if Dipper was dying? What if that’s why he hadn’t seen him yet?

 

His breath caught in his throat before he sucked in a mouthful of air quickly. No, Dipper wouldn’t be one of those found among the dead, he just wouldn’t. He was trained and he was smart. Sometimes Dipper was spacy and sometimes he wasn’t always watching his surroundings carefully but he wasn’t _dead_. He couldn’t be. Dipper wasn’t stupid enough to allow it.

 

With a shaky hand, Bill reached up toward his ear, pushing his hair to the side and flipping the small switch on his hearing aid in a quick manner. Immediately his eyes drifted closed for a time as he relished in the deafening silence it brought, all sounds dying off as if none existed in the first place. There were no screams without his hearing aids, no thoughts of ‘what if’. People lay hurt and dying all around him but he couldn’t allow himself to be caught up in the thought that one of them were Dipper or any of the others he’d unwittingly grown close to over the last few weeks of his stay here.

 

Everything in him still screamed for him to check every single body that lay littered across the dirt, to run through the camp yelling for his small group of trusted friends, but he knew that he could never do so safely. Not only would the four not let him live it down should he be hurt in doing so but if he never made it and _they_ found _him_ instead? He didn’t want anyone finding him like that.

 

Another flick of the lever and another shell casing popped from his rifle as he aimed once more. Five more down since he last counted so what did that make it? Twenty-three? Or was it twenty-four? There was still so many and more were dropping like flies. He could see the gunfire and the smoke but he couldn’t spy anyone else other than the undead. One of them had to be Wendy, the girl knew how to take care of herself, had been in a great number of fights in college. Or so he had heard through the grapevine anyway. Pacifica wasn’t a push over either.

 

He was sure they were okay, they had to be. Mabel was a Pines. Stan bragged constantly about how he’d taught them everything he knew, how to shoot and hunt, how to protect themselves. The old alpha had been so afraid one of them would have presented omega once upon a time and he wasn’t going to sit idly by while someone took advantage of _his_ kids. Bill was just prone to worry. And anxiety even if he hadn’t had a decent panic attack since college. Living alone had been far more therapeutic than he would have thought.

 

Suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a shiver tore down his spine. Something wasn’t right, it almost felt like eyes were on him. He knew he was the only one in the booth, hadn’t he locked the door when he entered it?

 

Bill rolled his shoulders to try and shake the feeling but it never went away and his brows furrowed as the sensation grew. The tingling had started in the back of his head but had washed over his entire body now and it wasn’t enjoyable. He couldn’t focus on the shot he was trying to take and instead had hit the undead in the shoulder. At least someone had taken that chance and nailed it between the eyes but it didn’t sit right with him. Maybe it was just him? His own fears from earlier manifesting physically?

 

Something from behind him rolled and hit against the back of his boot and that’s when he decided that he definitely wasn’t alone and he definitely needed to take a look. The least the person could have done was tap him on the shoulder. They were in the middle of a crisis, what was the point in scaring him? It wasn’t as if they had the time to play pranks on each other! As much as Bill would enjoy a good prank he wasn’t in the mood in this particular moment!

 

A snarl had left him faster than he could stop it and he’d turned with the full intent of giving the meanest of glares he could muster to whoever it was that had snuck up behind him. This wasn’t the time nor the place and they were going to get a piece of his mind. Bill could take a joke, loved jokes in fact! He was the mastermind of some of the greatest jokes ever told in Gravity Falls University! Hell, some of the best pranks, too. Delivery was the key element to a good joke or prank and this wasn’t the best delivery and he had half a mind to punch the person for even trying.

 

But when his eyes caught sight of tattered clothing and blood stained lips, of a shambling gait and thinning hair, he knew he was, for lack of a better word, thoroughly fucked. This wasn’t a person, at least not one he knew. It wasn’t a survivor from the camp and it wasn’t some lone ranger that happened upon them in their time of need.

 

Time seemed to stand still as their eyes locked, Bill breathing roughly in panic and the undead snarling in angry hunger, but it was only for a moment before arms shot out to grab at him. His rifle clattered to the floor hard, going off as the bullet whizzed and grazed a fellow survivor in the leg, as he made an effort to dodge in the form of wedging himself as far into the corner as possible. It was a vain attempt because the undead’s hands wrapped around his shoulders and slammed him harshly against the wall but he had at least tried something.

 

A wheezed gasp left him as the weight of the other crushed his ribs and the room spun as his head cracked against the surface of the drywall behind him. It took everything in him to push back against the monster, wedging his hands between them and forcing pressure against his chest, but he made a scant bit of distance between himself and the undead as he regained focus and, thankfully, air. He’d almost forgotten how strong these things could be and they certainly didn’t hold anything back.

 

Try as he might, though, pushing against the thing solved nothing and it was far stronger than he was. It snapped and snarled and blood and spit was dripped all over the front and the arms of the hoodie he was wearing, staining the already dark blue an indigo as the liquid seeped into the wool. The monster pushed back and Bill could feel his arms buckling under the weight. It’s nails dug harshly into the fabric of the hoodie and part of him wouldn’t be surprised if he found himself bleeding later.

 

Against his better judgement he looked away from the creature, eyes scanning the immediate area around him. The shelves behind him were bare and even if they weren’t earlier then from the sheer force he’d been thrown into the wall would have rendered them so anyway. But the counter wasn’t and Bill only remembered it was because he had commented about it when he’d entered the little hut to cover in not but a moment before. Well, he said ‘comment’ but he would have complained outright had the man himself been with him. Various utensils lay strewn about just awaiting for Soos to grab and use for whatever their purpose would be for the day. Such as that Philip’s screwdriver with the red handle, Soos’ favorite. 

 

It was sharp enough that Bill could pierce into the undead’s skull and sturdy enough that it wouldn’t break in his grip. So many tools were found flimsy due to weather, Soos took care of all of his things. He’d have to apologize to the beta later.

 

Hesitantly he removed one of his hands from the undead’s chest and that only allowed it to inch closer to him as he craned his neck farther away. The counter wasn’t very far from him, maybe half an inch, but the screwdriver itself wasn’t the closest. It sat next to the toolbox, the toolbox that Bill had slid out of his way when he had first arrived and set up shop to begin dispatching the undead. It was far closer to the edge nearest the entrance than it was closer to him so it was going to be a bit of a stretch. 

 

With his right hand firmly planted on the undead’s chest and pushing with all of his strength against it, he reached with his left toward the screwdriver. A firm sense of deja vu settled in his stomach as he recalled a similar situation such as this on the rooftop of a building in Gravity Falls time square not too long ago but the fear of dying overpowered that feeling. What did deja vu matter if he was going to die not but three seconds from now?

 

The tips of his fingers brushed against the handle and he’d almost sighed in relief but he had to pull back quickly and push against the monster as he felt the warmth of its breath a bit too close to his neck for his own comfort. He’d been so close, too! It was just there, just in reach, he could have grabbed it! But though its teeth were blunt, its bite was sharp. These damned things could tear a person to pieces, Bill was sure of it. Luckily he’d yet to see it happen in person but he knew he never wanted to be on the receiving end of such treatment.

 

A shaky huff of air left him as he tried to push at the monster again. Whatever adrenaline he was working off of earlier was suddenly dissipating as panic rose into his chest from his stomach like bile and his whole body shook. He could almost taste the fear he felt and his arms buckled as the undead snapped it’s jaws above him.

 

“Listen, asshole,” he snapped, voice dripping with hatred and disgusted, eyes alight with far more emotion than his voice allowed, as he wedged his knee in between himself and the other, “I dunno about _you_ but this isn’t how **I** wanna go out. Ya feel me?”

 

His only answer in return was a venomous snarl which was about all he would expect from the other so without further warning he shoved as hard as he could. The monster stumbled backwards as he was pushed. An almost confused expression passed over the undead’s face as he was shoved into the opposite wall with a smack and he stood stoic for a beat almost stunned. Now with the opportunity presented to him, Bill rushed over for the counter and grabbed at the screwdriver. His breathing was ragged and that was mostly from panic but the undead hadn’t helped any but as soon as his fingers wrapped around the handle of the screwdriver a huff of relieved laughter left him.

 

A weight charging into his back knocked the wind out of him as he was pressed against the edge of the counter painfully and he whimpered out. Hands found their way to his arms again and he was pinned to the counter top. He would have struggled, had even begun to as he made a move to thrash against him, but a hot searing pain tore through his upper arm and he cried out loudly.

 

All his brain could focus on was the pain. The pain and the metallic scent of copper. Blood soaked the arm of the hoodie as the warmth of the liquid poured down his right arm. A shiver over took him as realization set in and his eyes widened in horror and his vision clouded with unshed tears. He’d been bitten. The monster had just grabbed him and bitten him.

 

Muscle was torn as the undead pulled back, chewing grotesquely loud (almost smugly if Bill didn’t know any better) before opening its mouth again. Blood and tissue dripped from its mouth as skin and tendon lay caught between its teeth. It reared back and readied for another attack, jaws wide and teeth bloodied but his hold on Bill slackened. 

 

Maybe he _was_ smug. Maybe he thought he’d gotten the better of Bill and maybe he was right. Bill was bitten and that meant he wasn’t going to be around much longer, at least not how he was now, but he would be damned if he didn’t go down without a fight. 

 

His grip on the handle of the screwdriver tightened and he spun in the undead’s hold. Once they were facing each other Bill’s face scrunched up in solemn disgust at the sight of his own blood caking the other’s lips and chin. He leveraged himself against the counter and brought his foot up before he kicked the other back and away from himself as harshly as he could. The undead only stumbled a few steps away from him and had regained his footing surprisingly fast but it was enough. That was all Bill needed for him to close the distance and drive the screwdriver deep into its skull.

 

It fell forward over top of him and the pair went crashing to the floor in a heap, Bill wheezing out a gasp as the other’s dead weight settled over him. It was crushing but he couldn’t bring himself to move him just yet. More tears pricked and burned at his eyes before finally falling to roll down his temples into his hair and he sucked in a harsh, shaky breath of air. 

 

A bite meant the end. He was done. It was all over now. In hindsight it was his own fault for turning his hearing aid off but he couldn’t focus with it on. All of the screaming, the gunshots, his focus had zoned in on his anxiety and everything had centered around Dipper. For the life of him he couldn’t understand why and he almost resented the alpha for it even if it weren’t his fault. A soft and broken sob left him and he shoved the undead off of him with a frustrated grunt before he rolled over onto his hands and knees.

 

He felt sick and he could even feel the vomit rising in his stomach though he was sure he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Everything hurt and his entire arm was on fire. It felt hot to the touch even from under the fabric and suddenly the hoodie was far too warm but he didn’t want to take it off. Bill didn’t want to lose that sense of safety that came with the scent carried on the jacket. Dipper wasn’t here with him and even if he was it wasn’t very likely the alpha would allow Bill to use his scent to calm himself down. 

 

Dipper would likely panic far worse than he currently was anyhow. 

 

Grabbing hold of the counter’s edge with his left hand, Bill slowly hoisted himself up to his feet, swaying only slightly before he could right himself into a standing position. He was dizzy and it took what felt like a solid minute before the room stopped spinning. Was that an effect of the virus? Or maybe his system was finally crashing from the adrenaline high he had worked himself into earlier. Either answer it was all it managed to do was worsen the nausea he felt and he had to force his eyes closed once again.

 

What was blatantly obvious was the fact that Soos’ little workshop wasn’t as safe as he had originally thought it to be. Even if he remembered locking the damn door behind himself when he had entered. If he was going to die then it wasn’t going to be while he was surrounded by motor oil and tools.

 

As slowly as he could to prevent himself from becoming more dizzy than he already was, Bill picked his rifle up by the strap and slipped it onto his shoulder with his left arm. His right arm hurt to so much as move so he was sure it would have been hell to lift that damn thing higher than his head. Out of some morbid curiosity, Bill pulled back the fabric of the hoodie and his shirt to peer at the wound. He couldn’t see it very well for all the blood but he knew it was worse than a gash. A large chunk of his own skin was missing, maybe even a good bit of muscle. Spit was glistening on the parts of his skin that weren’t blood covered and that was mostly located near the top of the wound.

 

Looking over the wound he realized something in a stroke of sudden genius. Or insanity depending on who was asking so maybe he was finally running a fever! If he could find Wendy then they could likely cut the arm off before the virus infected him. He wouldn’t be able to shoot. Or write because he was right hand dominant but that didn’t matter. What mattered is that he wouldn’t be dead. Even if it was only a theory.

 

“Okay,” as he rifled through Soos’ tool box quickly, he pulled a grease stained rag out from the bottom and cringed inwardly at the sight of it but it was better than nothing. He needed to fashion a tourniquet and quickly before he lost more blood and passed out without so much as setting his eyes on Wendy. Hopefully the dried grease didn’t give him an infection once this was all over, "This'll have to do..."

 

Using his teeth and both hands, which hurt far more than he could put into coherent words might he add, the cloth was ripped into pieces thin enough that could wrap around his arm without bunching up. He tied two strips together in hopes that would make them long enough and wrapped them around his arm just above the wound. Blood poured from the wound the tighter he wrapped the cloth around his arm and a pained hiss left him. He had braced himself against the counter to keep standing but now he was positive that was a bad idea as he paused a moment when his vision blurred.

 

Nausea overcame him once more and he was dizzy even with his eyes closed. It was possible he was experiencing another bout of adrenaline again, what with this being a life or death situation, but he wasn’t entirely positive. Something in the back of his mind told him that this was the virus and he was already too late but he didn’t feel as if he were close to death. In fact, aside from feeling sick, he felt normal otherwise. Just anxiety, he tried to tell himself. That’s all.

 

With the tourniquet tied as tightly as it could get, being one handed hadn’t helped and he’d had to use his teeth again. He straightened himself into a standing position and adjusted the gun on his shoulder, a disgusted frown set firmly on his face as he spit out what little bit of oil had coated his tongue and he shivered at how disgusting it was. Either he went now he or didn’t go at all, those were his only options and he didn’t have the luxury of time. If the virus didn’t get him then the blood loss would.

 

The first step was unsteady and he had to rest his weight on the counter with his hand to keep from falling over. The second step wasn’t much better but he at least hadn’t swayed from one side to the other as badly. By the third and fourth step, however, he was steadier, almost walking perfectly and he wretched the door open in a hurry. It wasn’t locked, no surprise there, so Bill slammed the door closed behind himself harder than he had meant to upon leaving.

 

Anger, among other things, bubbled up inside of him but he couldn’t focus on them now. Any other given situation he would have lashed out, be it at a person or object. This was his own doing. He was the one who had neglected to lock the door. How it had managed to open the damn door to begin with was beyond him but he’d think on that later after he found Wendy and hurriedly explained his plan to her.

 

Hopefully she went along with it and it worked because that’s the only solution he could think of.

 

Bodies lay forgotten along the dirt and blocked the path to the entrance. They piled high and some sat stacked on top of one another in bloody heaps. Crimson dyed the mud a rusty orange and it squished under his boots as he walked. A few faces he recognized stared back at him as he passed but he ignored them in favor of scanning the area.

 

If he thought about them now then he’d be a detriment to his own progress. There was a perfect time for mourning and now was not that time unless it was for himself and right now? He wasn’t dead yet. Wendy could help him and he’d be okay. They were both smart, they’d think of something so long as the both of them put their minds to it. Right?

 

Thankfully he couldn’t smell his own scent because just watching his hand shake as he lifted it to flip the switch to turn his hearing aid on was enough for him to know he was panicking. No one knew anything about how the virus worked and if they did then they weren’t telling it. Bill had no way of testing his own theories and while he wasn’t stupid it would take a laboratory to put any actual credibility to them.

 

So he wasn’t sure this would work and the voice in the back of his head knew that. It kept replaying his doubts over and over, replaying his own fears and worries, almost chanting them. What was assured was that he was bitten and he was bleeding. He was infected, like it or not, and if they went hacking at his arm and he still ended up as one of them then it was all for nothing. Usually his own determination was enough to win out his anxiety but he was so unsure about everything that he had none. No confidence, determination, just his own willpower to find Wendy and pray to whoever that this worked.

 

His boot slipped on a rather bloody arm - how ironic was that? - as he found himself lost in thought, or lost to his own anxiety rather, and he felt his body lurch forward but his brain was too slow to process what was happening. Arms wrapped around him almost from out of nowhere as he collided with a warm chest, the heart kept inside beating erratically either out of adrenaline, worry, or fear, he couldn’t tell which. They tightened around him protectively and he stiffened at the contact initially and slowly brought his hands up to push whoever it was away, his moves were so sluggish and it was starting to annoy him, but the scent stopped him.

 

There was definitely fear and worry but the unmistakable musk of Dipper had him relaxing into the other immediately as his fingers dug into the fabric of Dipper’s shirtsleeves to hold the other closer to him. A sudden burst of energy had him forcing himself to his feet, his hands clawing up Dipper’s arms and shoulders before his left wrapped around the other’s neck. He would have wrapped both but a white hot pain radiated from the wound on his right and he’d settled for one arm instead.

 

“Wendy,” he’d felt like crying and the name fell from his lips in a hushed sob, Dipper only tightening his hold on the other as confusion laced his scent, “We have to find Wendy, _now_.”

 

Dipper didn’t hesitate a moment longer and instead hoisted Bill into his arms, the rifle that had been hanging precariously from the omega’s shoulders finally slipping and falling to the ground with a wet thud, “Infirmary, we’re going. I gotcha.”

 

Though he felt safe he knew that the danger was right on his heels waiting to strike. Dipper was all but running toward the infirmary, not even wasting the time to ask Bill what had happened or what was wrong. Obviously he was injured, he was hunting Wendy down for a reason, but how was Bill going to explain what kind of injury it was? He’d have to tell Wendy of course but he knew Dipper wasn’t going to leave his side.

 

His hold on Dipper tightened subconsciously, the fingers of his right hand clutching at the fabric of the thin sweater the alpha was wearing. He didn’t want to lose this. After having been alone for so long, just him and Pyronica, he didn’t want to have to say good bye. To anyone. Tears burned at his eyes again at the mere thought and he laughed out a sob.

 

Just his luck, this would happen to him. Right as things started going his way some asshole would come along and ruin it all for him. Maybe he just didn’t deserve good things. He wasn’t a saint and could hardly be classified as a good person. It wasn’t like he had ever donated to a charity or gone out of his way to help someone else. Not that he was bad just that he had his own priorities and most of those centered around himself.

 

Bill was always preoccupied and caught up in his own dealings that other people’s troubles didn’t matter to him. He would help his friends from time to time and maybe his brother on the rare occasion Will asked, but he had never woken up one morning and decided to go and volunteer at a soup kitchen. Had never given spare change to the random beggar. Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, this was his own karma. This is what he deserved, not Wendy or Pacifica. Not Mabel. And definitely not Dipper.

 

At least the stars were pretty. The sky was painted a deep black blue and the stars twinkled brightly in unison as the moon shined among them. His own little slice of galaxy. No better night to die than tonight.

 

“Wendy, Bill’s injured!”

 

“Shit, okay, c’mon!”

 

He barely registered the voices as the sky disappeared from view and the ceiling of the strikingly lit infirmary obscured it. Everyone sounded like they were talking through water or he was sitting at the bottom of a barrel, their voices muffled and far away. Bill was far too focused on the fact that this might very well not work and he might very well be meeting his maker tonight, whoever that may be. 

 

The pair of alphas hurried him down the hallway, the pained moaning of what was left of their camp left behind in the waiting room. A door squeaked open as Dipper carried Bill in and it squeaked closed as Wendy followed behind, already rounding the other alpha to get to him.

 

“Bill, can you hear me?” the hoodie was being unzipped and Bill flinched finally, his eyes sparking with something akin to fear and Wendy smiled softly at the reaction, “What happened?”

 

Oh, he was sitting. Dipper must have sat him down on the table. The alpha was still hovering over him, however, so there was no getting out of it. Bill’s left hand came up slowly and grabbed at Wendy’s wrist, stopping her from pulling at the left shoulder of the hoodie as their eyes met, “This is gonna sound insane.”

 

He hated that his voice was so soft but the situation was grave and he needed their attention. If speaking lowly got it then so be it, “I was bitten.”

 

Understandably the pair froze and Wendy almost wretched her arm away from the omega before stilling in a moment of sudden shock. Two pairs of wide eyes studied him for what seemed like hours but was likely only a few seconds, likely searching for any sign that this was a joke, until their eyes landed on the arm in question. The tourniquet was pulled free by Wendy, causing Bill to hiss and recoil from the touch. It was equally as painful pulling the hoodie off and Wendy apologized every second.

 

Her fingers were cool but maybe that was because Bill’s skin was on fire. The wound was red and irritated from what he could see and they hadn’t even cleaned up any blood yet. All he knew was that it hurt and what he was going to suggest next was going to be twice as painful as this had been.

 

“Okay…” the word was muttered softly, Wendy’s own hands shaking in panic as she backed away from Bill a handful of steps, “Okay, okay. This doesn’t have to be the end, right, dude? I mean… People have lasted forever with a bite!”

 

She had begun to pace in front of him and every time Bill opened his mouth to speak she would interrupt him with another rant about what she could do. Bill would have been livid had he been able to find the energy to put forth the effort to be. As it stood now all he could do was muster a saddened glare as the red head paced and vented, his free hand coming up to rub at his arm until Dipper grabbed at him to stop.

 

“Maybe alcohol will kill it! We got plenty of that, right? Not just rubbing alcohol, I mean the grade A shit that Stan has around,” she was still rambling but her eyes had landed on Dipper as if seeking answers or approval, “That’s some strong shit, it’s gotta work! Or we could-”

 

“Cut it off,” Bill interrupted, raising his voice high enough to catch her attention. It was raw with emotion, emotions he didn’t like feel and emotions he didn’t like others knowing about, but it was unlikely she was going to calm down any time soon.

 

Taking his left hand, he braced himself on the table and slide off before retrieving the tourniquet from Dipper and holding it out toward her for her to take, “Cut the damn thing off before the virus infects me. It’s our only way.”

 

Wendy’s movements were slow as she wrapped her fingers around the bloodied cloth and her uncertain gaze locked with Bill’s far more determined one as she asked softly, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

 

“Yeah,” the nod was shaky and tears welled up in his eyes as he averted them toward the tiled flooring, “It’s the only way. I mean, either way I’d be fucked, right…? Better to try and do something about it then do nothing.”

 

The red head pursed her lips together, eyes searching Bill’s figure before they slid over to Dipper who had remained reverently silent the entire time, “Dipper?”

 

He startled at his name, both Bill and Wendy looking to him now, one with wet almost scared eyes and the other with unsure and wary eyes. His own flickered between them and it was hard to figure out what emotion was swirling in those mocha browns but he eventually nodded, “It’s the only thing we got, right…?”

 

A large sigh left Wendy before she spun on her heels and grabbed the chair behind her and wheeled it over to the table. With a motion of her hand and a command to sit, Bill did so obediently, placing his arm over the table with a wince. Dipper was right behind him, his hands being placed firmly on his shoulders and squeezing as reassuringly as he could.

 

To say the least, this was going to suck. Bill thought he’d be prepared for this once he’d allowed the iea to cement itself into his brain and he’d decided to follow through with it. It wasn’t as if he had much of a choice in the matter, it was either this or turn and neither were going to be particularly pleasant. In the eyes of the rest of the world he had always been disabled even though he was only deaf. Now at least there’d be some merit behind the word.

 

Before the tourniquet could be tied the door behind them burst open as Ford stepped in, out of breath and as frazzled as Bill felt. Well, he was the one getting his arm chopped off, old man, no need to steal the spotlight.

 

“Don’t!”

 

Bill’s eyes narrowed at the beta and the chair was pushed back into Dipper as he stood, making a move to storm over toward him until one of Dipper’s arms wrapped around his waist, “The hell do you mean ‘don’t’? I was bitten!”

 

“Yes, I know,” his voice was calm, his breathing finally evening out as the door was shut behind him and his eyes flickered up toward the clock.

 

“What do you mean you know?!” Bill’s voice raised another octave and he thrashed in Dipper’s hold who in turn only tightened it but he could smell the other’s wariness from his spot.

 

“Let me see it,” Ford held out his hand and Bill recoiled back into Dipper’s chest with a protective snarl, foring the beta to sigh in exasperation, “Bill, please. I only want to help and to stop you from doing something you’ll regret.”

 

“Regret?” the word was scoffed scornfully, Bill wrapping his left hand around Dipper’s wrist and attempting to force the alpha to relinquish his hold on him, “I’ll tell you one thing, cutting off my fucking arm and beating you with it won’t be one of the things I’ll regret, Sixer!”

 

“How long has it been since you brought him in here?” seeming to give up on Bill, Ford glanced up toward Dipper, hand dropping to rest at his side.

 

While the other held Bill close, out of protection for both the omega and the beta, Dipper growled his words lowly, distrust coloring them, “Two minutes on the walk here, two minutes to decide what to do, and now here you are. For some reason.”

 

“Four minutes,” Ford whirled around once more, watching the clock as it ticked away the seconds.

 

They didn’t have time for this. The longer they allowed this to continue, allowed Ford to show his ass for whatever reason, the less likely their plan was going to work. Probability of success had already been quite low to begin with and Bill hadn’t been particularly confident in the plan but it was something and soon, the longer Ford stalled them, it was going to be nothing. It wouldn’t be effective and he was going to die.

 

He thrashed once again in Dipper’s hold, snarling softly when the alpha only tightened his arm around him. So he tried prying Dipper’s arm off, which also didn’t work. He was already so tired and drained, while anger had given him renewed energy it wasn’t near enough to put up a fight with Dipper. 

 

Bill hated this. Hated having his fate be put into someone else’s hands. He hated not having control over what happened to him. If anyone were going to decide what should happen to him then it should be him and him alone. Not Wendy or Dipper and definitely not Stanford. So he thrashed once more, kicking his feet in obstinance with a malicious growl forming in his chest.

 

Panic was setting in again, over riding his anger. Tears were clouding his vision but they were mostly out of frustration than they were real fear, for now. Why was Dipper even hearing Ford out? Ford knew he’d been attacked, he had to have! He must have watched the entire thing and hadn’t lifted a finger to help him! And here they were giving him the benefit of the doubt, allowing him to play scientist with Bill’s life.

 

“Five minutes and thirty seconds,” Ford finally spoke up and turned to face the three slowly with a rather serious expression written on his features, effectively stopping Bill from his escape attempts as their eyes locked once more, “Five minutes is the allotted time for a bite victim to turn. I’ve counted it each and every time that it’s ever happened. Five minutes exactly, on the dot. And you’re still here.”

 

Both Bill and Dipper went lax, the alpha’s hold dropping to allow Bill to stand on his own two feet as the omega looked himself over. He wasn’t snarling or foaming at the mouth. Still had intelligent thought and hadn’t attacked anyone. His body still listened to him decently and he still felt every bit of pain that he’d felt from before. He turned his hands over curiously to inspect them, studying over the skin in search of any raised veins with slowly coagulating blood inside but found none and as he finally spoke his voice was thick with confusion, “The fuck is going on…?”

 

“Congratulations, Bill Cipher,” speaking up smugly with a smug smile to go along with it, Ford clasped his hands behind his back, “You’re immune.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been working on this chapter for weeks.
> 
> My grandfather decided he wanted to renovate my house. Without asking me. So I've been doing that for the past month and a half. This chapter is going to end up as more stale exposition than what I wanted it to be but I'm mentally and physically exhausted right now. I just refuse to allow this to go any longer without an update lmao.
> 
> Maybe I'll go back after he's done for good and edit it, make it better and longer. Forgive me!

A punch was thrown faster than Bill could react and his fist connected with Ford’s nose which only led to the pair stumbling back from each other, one shaking his hand of the pain and the other nursing his bloodied nose. Bill hadn’t even registered that he had hit the beta until his entire right arm had felt as if it caught fire from the movement, the muscles just underneath the bite burning as if acid had been poured over the wound. Now his hand hurt as well, ached and throbbed harshly even, and all he could see was red as he stared Ford down. He was so angry, felt so betrayed and confused and he didn’t even know why. They weren’t particularly close to one another but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he wouldn’t have punched the beta again had Dipper not gotten in between them.

 

Forget for the time being that he wasn’t about to die because that was a blessing and he was thankful for it, don’t get him wrong. That wasn’t what had him upset, no one in their right mind would be upset about that. What had him upset was the fact that Ford had strung him along this entire time. Dipper, his own nephew, was forced to be involved in whatever this was for Ford’s own gain - that of which Bill **still**  wasn’t sure what the military was gaining from it. The entire camp from what Bill could gather knew *something* was happening between Ford and himself even if Bill wasn’t aware, everyone kept telling him to ask Ford about multiple things even when Ford wasn’t here. Not only that, Ford had the nerve to stand there with that self-satisfied smirk. Like he had discovered electricity or a new element. 

 

Like he was a God among men and he was worthy of some type of praise for what he had done.

 

“I deserved that…” while his voice was soft it still held an air of smug satisfaction and Bill made a move to approach again which only caused Dipper to wrap a tight arm around his midsection to pull him back and close against the alpha’s broad chest.

 

Bill’s next words were a mere snarl and he would have been surprised if anyone was able to make them out as he spoke them, his hands clawing at Dipper’s arm in hopes of forcing the alpha to release him, “You deserve more than that, you self-serving piece of shit! You were watching me, weren’t you? You watched as that **thing**  attacked me!”

 

“How do you think it got in, Bill?” Ford laughed rather incredulously, almost in confusion as his eyebrows knit together and their eyes locked, “I jimmied the door open.”

 

The omega thrashed in Dipper’s hold then, arms thrusting forward to reach for Ford in order to grab, fingers twitching in eagerness at the thought, as Bill spat venomously, “Fuck you!”

 

Ford’s own hands raised in defense quickly and he took another step back from Bill, eyes flickering up to Dipper in warning as if to tell the other to keep a tighter hold on the blonde before flickering back, “I had to test my theory.”

 

“I could have died!” his feet kicked upwards in an attempt to force Dipper’s hold to slacken or to force it away entirely as his hands pushed against the alpha’s arm but all it accomplished was for it to tighten and Bill yelled out in frustration, “I could have died all in the name of your **fucking theory**  and you’re sitting here trying to justify it!”

 

Before he could say or do much else he felt his entire body moving and the arm around him shifted before disappearing from his person altogether. His feet were suddenly planted firmly on the tile floor and he was spun around to face Wendy who attempted a gentle smile before her own hands were placed on his shoulders as if to steady him. Just looking at her already placated his anger and he relaxed but only minutely because he could still feel the brunt of it boiling under the surface. If it weren’t for the fact that Wendy was stronger than him and was effectively keeping him in place, just turning to look at Ford would be enough to have him sending another punch in the beta’s direction and he wouldn’t care where it hit.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” her voice was soft and her smile was gentle but her eyes left his own briefly, long enough to lock with Dipper’s before she was wrapping an arm around his shoulders and guiding him back to the bed in the corner of the room, “Dipper and Ford will go _outside_  to talk while I look at the wound.”

 

The words were spoken kindly but there was a hint of demand behind them and Bill could sniff a shift in Dipper’s scent. While subtle and barely noticeable, it was there and it was obvious but Bill couldn’t tell if it were anger or annoyed indifference just that Dipper was in agreement with Wendy. A part of him didn’t *want* Dipper to leave him and he’d almost whined audibly in need. Something in him wanted the alpha to stay and he wasn’t sure where that was coming from. Bill **wanted** to say it was a want but he knew it was more of a _need_  and he didn’t understand the why behind it. One of these days he’d settle for _not_  trying to figure this bullshit out and leave well enough alone!

 

Bill whirled around to watch the pair leave the room because that’s all Wendy was allowing him to do. There likely wasn’t going to be a chance for him to follow simply because Wendy was going to use this time to force him to calm down before something worse happened. He **was** still bleeding after all. He can’t argue with Ford if he’s on the verge of passing out from blood loss. Whatever point he’d be trying to make would end up being forgotten by the time he’d wake up anyway!

 

He felt Wendy push him onto the table gently albeit hurriedly and his eyes finally landed on her once the door to the room was clicked shut rather harshly. Now it didn’t matter what he wanted to do, he didn’t have a choice any more. Wendy was going to force him to stay put and if she really *wanted* to, then she could command him to stay and he’d definitely not be able to follow after Dipper. Oh, the angst of being born omega… 

 

“Dipper will figure it out,” her voice was soft as she darted around the room in a hurry, gathering item after item before carrying the load back over to him and dumping it next to his hip in an organized chaotic heap, “But for now, I gotta make sure you don’t bleed to death.”

 

Bill locked eyes with her for a time as he attempted to swallow the collection of spit in his mouth but it proved more difficult than it should have been. He felt like he was going to throw up but he felt an enormous amount of energy just *sitting* in his veins waiting to be used. This feeling wasn’t anything new for him but he hated it. Panic attacks for _Bill fucking Cipher_ were rare, he didn’t need them because he was too confident for them, but when he had them they were awful.

 

Who wouldn’t have one after being told they were immune to this whatever it was plaguing them? Everyone around him was literally being eaten alive by those **things**  and here he was with a free VIP pass that allows him to skip the line and get straight to bleeding to death if he so wanted. It wasn’t fair and he knew that more than everyone. Why him? _How_ him?

 

And more importantly, what were the military going to do with this information? Ford said that this was a theory which meant that he’d likely already told someone about it. Dipper had been given the ‘job’ to watch him and keep him safe until Ford could test this theory so that meant they wanted him alive. And _that_ meant he’d be meeting someone else from the military in the very near future.

 

None of it sat right with him and the more he thought about it the more it made him fidget in his seat. What if they found out that it didn’t work the way they intended for it to? Would they kill him? Or would he simply be free to go? 

 

“Ow!” as soon as the needle pierced the skin just a mere centimeters above the wound, Bill was shrinking back and away from Wendy, his thoughts effectively halting as his entire being focused on the new pain, “The fuck?”

 

“I’m stitching it back together so it heals better,” she stated matter-of-factly as she stared up at Bill as if it were obvious, the needle and thread poised in the air between her thumb and forefinger, ready for another stab.

 

“Fuck me, at this rate I think I would have preferred the scar…” it took what seemed like a whole minute for Bill to compose himself again - with what little composure he’d had, of course - but he’d relaxed enough for Wendy to puncture the needle through and resume stitching once more.

 

She snorted in response, trying to keep up the pace in order to finish quickly, “Trust me, it wouldn’t have looked pretty.”

 

“I could rock anything and you know it.”

 

The smile Bill forced onto his features looked strained and he knew it without even seeing it. He could tell it in the way she looked at him, in the way her own smile was slightly off, soaked with worry and trepidation. Wendy likely hadn’t had to deal with this before - not someone being immune because of course she hadn’t dealt with that. Talking someone down from a panic attack was some rough stuff. Even having lived with it for a number of years now Bill could barely talk himself down from one,let alone talk someone else down. He didn’t blame her for merely scooting closer in attempts to use her presence as a comfort and that being _all_ she could muster for the time being.

 

At least the stitching had broken his train of thought and that meant he was less prone to talk himself into a panic attack while someone was literally **stabbing him** repeatedly. It was awful and it hurt, not near as bad as the bite itself but it still hurt, so it was easy to focus on that to steady his own breathing before he hyperventilated himself into passing out.   
  
“So,” the sound of Wendy’s voice caught his attention, her own eyes trained on the wound as she slowly stitched it up, pulling the thread taunt before piercing the skin again and starting the process all over, “that was some heavy shit…”

 

Bill *would* have given a long winded and very tired sigh but his face was screwed up into a wince and he couldn’t bring himself to put forth effort into making the sound, “Yeah… It was something…”

 

“Stupid question but,” pausing only to lean forward and bite the thread in two, freeing it from the needle after tying it off, Wendy grabbed her only sterile cloth she could find and began to clean off the blood before continuing, “how do you feel? Ya know, finding out you’re immune to this stuff?”

 

“I…”

 

How should he answer that question? Giving it honest thought now that Ford wasn’t here and gloating about it, he wasn’t too sure how he felt. He knew he felt _scared_ , scared because people would either kill him because they were jealous - why was he the one chosen to be immune when so many other people deserved it over him? - and scared because so many people could use him for more than what his secondary sex intended. Already he didn’t trust people, hadn’t trusted Dipper nor anyone in the camp when he had first arrived, and this would only make it worse. 

 

“I don’t know,” he finally answered, sounding much more insecure than he intended to. But giving it more thought, it wasn’t much of a lie because he didn’t know. Feelings were always hard for him to understand and even though he adored attention, he hated being coddled. He wasn’t a child and just because he was omega that didn’t mean he needed, nor wanted, every alpha in the nearby vicinity to hover around him. Bill loved protective alphas but he had always been an independent person.

 

As their eyes met Wendy attempted a sympathetic smile at Bill. It wasn’t a very bright one and could stand to look a tad bit more sincere but she wasn’t sure how to make it look like that. Who could? This sort of situation was only ever heard of in television and video games. It was unheard of, it was something that no one could understand being apart of.

 

How could Bill expect anyone to understand it when even he didn’t? None of them aside from Ford knew what this could mean for him nor for the world. Aside from Ford no one knew what was going to happen to him now. How could someone be sympathetic for his predicament when it was so bizarrely supernatural? He didn’t even know what was going to happen after he walked out of this room!

 

“That’s understandable,” giving a small unsure smile, Wendy began to wrap a pristinely white bandage around the wound on Bill’s arm as gently as she could while it still remaining snug, “I mean, I can’t even *fathom* being immune to this shit. That’s very…”

 

“Z-Nation? Last of Us? World War Z?”

 

“Troubling,” she laughed as she finished her original thought, finally able to give Bill a genuine smile as she looked away from her work and up toward the blonde as he spoke, “But those work too.”

 

Yeah, it was more than just troubling. Overwhelming was a word that came to mind immediately. So many disturbing scenarios played in his mind’s eye on a loop and he couldn’t get them to stop. It was obvious they were going to experiment on him and he obviously wasn’t going to have a say in what they did to him. When did the government ever listen to its citizens? It hadn’t before and he didn’t foresee them starting to now. He’d have to be seven different sorts of delusional to think they would care about his well being. It was better to sacrifice the one to save the many after all. 

 

A small and almost defeated sigh left him as he slid from the table once Wendy had tied off the bandage, his hiking boots thudding against the sad tiling below him. Dipper had yet to return so that likely meant he was still talking with Ford. Some part of him hoped that many Dipper was *arguing* with the old beta. While that meant Bill couldn’t walk by and punch the crap out of the man again it at least meant Ford was getting an earful from someone. It wasn’t as satisfying as it being Bill himself but he was content with the outcome regardless. 

 

“I should get back to my cabin now that whoever is left is taking care of the undead…” because Pyronica needed him and he needed her. Being without her for as long as he had felt off. Pyronica had been a staple in his life for years and her not being by his side had him feeling more anxious than usual. The energetic pit kept him grounded, kept him sane.

 

Wendy gave a curt nod, standing from her own seat herself, “Be careful getting back. If you feel faint try to sit down for a moment. I don’t think we should have any stragglers. Dip still got your gun?”

 

Did he? The alpha had taken it from him, hadn’t he? Bill made a grab for the rifle strap that usually laid across his chest but when the palm of his hand touched the woolen fabric of Dipper’s hoodie instead he let go of a sigh as he allowed both arms to dangle listlessly at his sides. That meant he’d have to hunt Dipper down. Which also meant he’d have to suffer Ford’s presence even though he sorely didn’t want to. Just thinking of the beta almost physically hurt him, the need to beat the living hell out of Ford made his entire body grow tense and rigid with pent up aggression.

 

“Seems so…” Bill sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he’d be having to bite back his anger for a second time. He admittedly wasn’t very good at it and he knew that, one of his ‘very few’ faults.

 

The redhead gave another small smile, another attempt at being sympathetic, before she spoke again with a gentler voice than Bill was used to from the alpha, “Just don’t go punchin’ Ford again and you’ll be fine.”

 

“Well, damn!” throwing his arms up in exaggeration, only to regret it once his arm lit up in pain and forced him to wince, he huffed in only *mild* frustration as his arms settled gently at his sides once more, “That was my whole plan!”

 

“Go on and get some rest,” with a laugh and a dismissive wave of her own hand, Wendy took it upon herself to open the door for Bill and stepping aside out of his way. It wasn’t that she was hurrying him along but she knew they were swamped with other injured people - whoever it was that was left out of their camp. No one had the time to take roll call yet and she unfortunately couldn’t start.

 

“I’ll try,” though he had smiled he was sure it was lacking. Because he _was_ tired now that Wendy had mentioned it. Exhausted was a better word but he could definitely make it home before passing out - he hoped.

 

He gave the younger a short wave and a soft ‘see ya’, turning on his heels and walking out the door before she took to nagging about the wound. While he was positive by now it was in good nature he didn’t feel like listening to it right now. Adrenaline had ran its course and he was shaky from the panic he’d felt earlier. His blood and already ran cold now that he was calm so now not only was he tired and shaky, but *cold*. Freezing, in fact! Maybe he should start looking for some sort of medicine for his anxiety? Self medicating was dangerous but this was **ridiculous**.

 

A sour scent caught his attention and he paused in taking another step down the hallway only because he recognized it. That was Dipper’s anger. The alpha didn’t get angry often but when he did it was quite obvious. Bill had only ever smelled it one other time before now, of course, but he knew this was Dipper. Something deep inside of him told him to comfort the alpha but he wasn’t entirely sure where it was coming from. So instead he followed the scent farther down the hall and toward the lobby where the same group of injured people sat.

 

Dipper was entering the lobby at the same time as Bill was and the pair had almost ran into each other, Bill purposefully taking a step back away from him to avoid face planting the alpha’s chest. There was a moment of silence, a moment where all they could do was stare at each other. If Bill thought *he* didn’t know what to do with this information then Dipper was more lost than he was. The alpha was given this job without being told much about it from Bill’s understanding. Now being face to face with the result of his ‘job well done’ Bill could see how confused the other felt. Was this a death sentence? Had he just delivered Bill to his end? Handing him over with a neat little bow?

 

He wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure what. Anything would help, it would be better than silence, but a ‘it wasn’t your fault’ didn’t seem appropriate and ‘you didn’t know’ seemed even less so.What does one even say to the person that’s likely damned them? 

 

“So,” with a clear of his throat, Bill had averted his eyes from Dipper’s own in hopes of coming up with something else to say, mentally jumping for joy when his eyes landed on the familiar strap wrapped around one of Dipper’s shoulders, “you still got my gun.”

 

“Oh,” immediately, and with a cute blush adorning his cheeks, Dipper grabbed at the strap, pulling the rifle free and handing it over, “yeah, I was… Ya know, didn’t want you shootin’ my Great Uncle and all…”

 

Obvious excuse but it was probably at least a little true and it even made Bill scoff and roll his eyes as he took the gun from Dipper’s outstretched hand, “Asshole deserves a bullet to the dick but I’ll settle for the punch I was able to throw at him.”

 

“Please do, I’d hate to have to play mediator the entire way to Portland,” Dipper laughed, a strained smile coming to his features.

 

“Portland…?” Dipper was likely trying to cover it up with the joke but Bill wasn’t an idiot and caught it rather quickly. With how long he’d sat in that room with Wendy there was no doubt in his mind that they had enough time to talk about a great number of things but Portland wasn’t one of the things Bill thought they would talk about.

 

“Yeah,” a tired sigh escaped the alpha, clearly already tired just from the thought of it and that had Bill narrowing his eyes, “Ford has to take you back to the military base they have set up in Portland. I volunteered to go with you.”

 

“Even though I’m no longer your ‘job detail’?”

 

Another far more easy going smile found its way to Dipper’s features as he spoke with a nod, “Yup. Even though.”

 

“Well, ain’t you just a regular ol’ knight in shining armor,” Bill smiled back with true emotion this time, far too relaxed around the alpha by now that letting the anger he still felt toward Ford and this new, screwed up situation he’d found himself in tarnish the well deserved smile seemed off.

 

Dipper scoffed with an eye roll of his own, waving his hand dismissively, “ _Please_. Would a knight let you get bit by one of those undead?”

 

“Cause for getting fired, I’d say,” even though he had laughed, trying to make light of the situation, Bill’s eyes landed on the bandage that was hiding the wound, his hand twitching to reach up and rub at it to ease some discomfort, “Sorry about your jacket, by the way…”

 

“Hell, its old, I’m surprised it’s lasted me this long. Keep it. Warmer than your edgy leather jacket,” Dipper shrugged, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans in order to keep himself from reaching out to pull Bill into a hug, instincts humming with the desire to comfort the omega.

 

“Hey now. It’s not edgy, it’s called ‘fashion’. Look it up,” before giving the snootiest snort he’d ever given, Bill stuck his tongue out at Dipper and blew a raspberry at the alpha but stopped just short of crossing his arms to avoid causing more pain than he’d already done earlier. When in the moment he kept forgetting that he was hurt, throwing his arms in the air and punching people who *did* deserve it but likely didn’t deserve it as much as Bill thought they did. Wendy didn’t exactly give him any pain medicine so that meant they probably didn’t have any to begin with, far be it from him to force himself into the situation of needing them direly.

 

“You’re so full of shit,” with another laugh, Dipper motioned toward the door leading out the front, his other hand removing itself from his pocket to rest on the small of Bill’s back, “Walk ya home?”

 

“I knew that was your plan the other day, the deer just got in your way,” while trying all his might *not* to lean into the touch or into Dipper himself to indulge in the scent, Bill smirked up at Dipper, eyes alight with a faux knowing as if he’d just uncovered Dipper’s greatest secret and to that the alpha laughed once more before beginning to lead him out of the building.

 

“Yup. You caught me. Been thinking about this moment since we went hunting.”

 

Maybe that was a lie or just part of the joke but something inside of Bill hoped that Dipper wasn’t just playing along. His hands were warm and Bill was fond of his scent when the alpha actually allowed it to hold more than indifference and neutrality. Falling fast was never a problem with Bill because he never fell for anyone and he was sure that if they were the fabled ‘fated’ then they’d have already mated, regardless of heat, but something about Dipper pulled him in. It was hard to get the alpha out of his head, harder still to get his *scent* out of his head. Bill had smelled it once and once was enough. He needed more, craved it. Dipper’s attention was intoxicating. 

 

Even just walking side by side was enough to have every fiber in Bill’s being hum with the need to be close to Dipper. No matter how many bodies they passed on their trek down the path toward the cabins it didn’t deter Bill from breathing in that *sinful* scent. It was thicker, likely because Dipper was still upset and hadn’t quite yet reigned in his scent, but Bill loved it.

 

And he wasn’t the only one trying to encompass himself in someone’s scent. He noticed rather quickly that Dipper would lean in every other step as they walked. Though it made Dipper’s gait just a bit awkward and made it all the more obvious, Bill was quick to feign ignorance. Because if he could do the same with Dipper’s scent then why couldn’t Dipper? Bill wasn’t exactly in a position to judge, having huddled himself on his couch just a day before this to wallow in the musk that had been all over Dipper’s hoodie when the alpha had first handed it to him. 

 

Traveling to Portland with Dipper wouldn’t be so bad. Ford is what had him worried. If the beta could go so far as to lure one of the undead into a building *just* to attack him then what else would the beta be willing to do to push his own agenda? Would he go so far as to hurt Dipper to get the young alpha out of his way? And what exactly were the military going to do? He’d been fighting with himself about asking since he’d ran into Dipper, wanting to know everything the pair had talked about, but what good would it do him? They’d be leaving either way.

 

If only Dipper’s scent wasn’t so distracting. Maybe he could figure this out on his own and he wouldn’t have to worry about needing to ask so many damn questions! 

 

“Better get in there before Pyronica loses it,” Dipper had stopped before he did and that caused Bill to take a step onto his porch, stopping on the first stair of his staircase just to look back at the alpha.

 

“Yeah,” though he likely sounded distracted and looked entirely exhausted, Bill didn’t move right away to head inside even though he could already hear Pyronica scratching at the door, “Thanks for walking me…”

 

With yet another shrug - maybe that was one of Dipper’s quirks - the alpha smiled at him, just as exhausted as Bill himself looked, “No problem. Get some rest. I’m gonna help Stan and Mabel with clean up and figure out how many wounded we got.”

 

“Oh yeah…” thanks to his own internal battle and panic, Bill had completely forgotten that *other* people had gotten hurt as well, “Don’t stay up too late, Pine Tree.”

 

“Me?” he chuckled, one hand planting itself onto his hip as he cocked it to the side with a smirk plastered on his features, “I’m usually in bed by eight, I’ll have you know.”

 

“Always knew you were an old fart in disguise,” Bill smiled back, trying for the life of him not to reach out and pull Dipper closer as his entire body craved the contact.

 

“Damn, nothing gets passed you, Cipher.”

 

Again, the pair found themselves staring each other down in pure silence. Crickets chirped in the near distance, the world seeming to settle from the chaos that had occurred not but a mere moment before now. Every so often Bill could hear a gunshot going off, muffled by whatever silencer the shooter was using to mask his shot from nearby undead as everyone began dispatching the stragglers at the gate but for the most part, it was silent. 

 

Bill knew he didn’t trust Ford in the least. The beta was sketchy and there was no doubt he’d had some part in this undead raid but somehow Dipper had proven himself different. They hadn’t spent a vast amount of time together and could barely be considered _friends_. The pair were friendly with each other and Bill liked Dipper’s company but did that mean they could be more? Instincts have already imprinted on each other, marked each other without their knowledge, and Bill feared what that meant come Dipper’s rut or his own heat but somehow Dipper had earned himself that spot.

 

A rule of thumb for Bill was to never trust anyone. People would sooner stab him in the back then they would help him. At first, Bill had thought that of Dipper. Hell, Dipper *had* been untrustworthy, keeping things from him and giving one word answers just to keep Bill at bay. But the longer they’d spent time together the harder their instincts tried to pull them together. 

 

Not that Bill minded because Dipper was interesting but it also scared him. Clearly Dipper was just a tad bit wary of their relationship or he wouldn’t hold himself back as often as he did.

 

“Guess this is good night, then?” Dipper was the first to speak, his voice soft and low as if speaking any louder would break Bill into a million pieces.

 

And damn him for not being able to hold back the smile, “Yeah. Night, _Sir Dipper_.”

 

It took another moment for Dipper to finally turn away from Bill, his eyes raking down the omega’s form as if studying him before turning away and beginning his long walk back toward what was left of the main gate. 

 

Even though Dipper was already walking away, Bill didn’t make a move to head inside just yet, his own gaze stuck to the alpha’s retreating back. The moon was shining high above him, illuminating the surrounding area in a soft and barely noticeable glow. It made Dipper look even more dashing as he strolled along the path, back straightened in his usual *military trained* waltz. 

 

“Damn, I got it bad…” Bill muttered to no one but himself, finally turning to enter the cabin as Pyronica began to bark, forcing him to huff loudly, “I’m coming, ya brat!”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> House reno is done! Thank God! Now I can write to my heart's content whenever I feel like it!
> 
> On another note, this chapter gave me so much trouble, I've never been this stressed out before. So I'd like to thank my lovely fiance for helping me come up with the cliff hanger before I had a conniption fit lmao. That being said, however, I hope you guys all enjoy!

With an irate glare and an even more, if not more so, impatient tap of his foot against the greying wood of his front porch, Bill stood stoically in front of his cabin door with his arms tightly crossed about his chest as he stared between the alpha and beta. The pair sat awaiting him just below on the pebbled pathway that led outward toward the ruined gate, one with a knowing half smile that made Bill want to puke and the other with an apologetic quirk to his lips that said this couldn’t be helped which only ended up pissing Bill off more. As the sun began to rise, painting the sky a nice color of orange-ish pink, birds chirped happily in the distance only minding their own business but souring Bill’s mood further. Pyronica sat at his feet with a soft glare of her own, not entirely understanding of the situation but knowing her owner wasn’t comfortable in something she was bound and determined to protect. Whatever was between Bill and Dipper had seemed to pass so her distrust was directed toward this new man, What’s-His-Face. Bill didn’t like him and that meant that he wasn’t anything good or at least untrustworthy, maybe even both.

 

“Guess you two are goin’ to Portland, huh?” the words were grit out between clenched teeth but Bill had managed the sarcastically pleasant smile without falter, even cocking his hip to the side as his eyes flickered from Dipper to Ford then back again.

 

“Bill,” Dipper sighed, his shoulders sagging from the weight this conversation was already carrying as he knew it was already coming, “You have to come.”

 

“Like shit I do. I don’t have to do a damn thing.”

 

“You know it can’t be helped,” the alpha tried reasoning, bringing a foot up to rest it on the last step of the porch in order to bring himself just a scant bit closer to the omega without crowding him, “We need Ford’s clearance to get in anyway. It’s an underground base, they don’t have guards.”

 

“Well, tough shit to the rest of the world, then. Guess the military ain’t makin’ no anti-virus or whatever today,” with a casual shrug of his shoulders, Bill dropped his arms and turned to head back for the door of his cabin without a second glance.

 

Before his hand could wrap around the old rustic metal of the doorknob he felt a larger hand wrap around his wrist and he turned to spy Dipper positioned behind him with the utmost determined look plastered to his features. Bill wanted to laugh because, _nice try_ , but the absolute anger and disgust he felt for the beta waiting just a few feet behind them had him snarling at the action. The omega had sense stopped being mad at Dipper. It had never been the alpha’s fault that he’d been put on this job, that he’d had to tail Bill without Bill knowing. What right did Bill have to hold it against him? It was, however, entirely Ford’s fault. Not only had the beta forced his great nephew to follow some unknown omega around Gravity Falls, force him to allow said omega to struggle, then allowed one of those undead assholes to attack him while he was otherwise occupied, he had gloated about the whole thing! He was proud!

 

Bill could understand the joy of being right about something. He could also understand the joy of proving someone wrong. What he couldn’t understand was using his family to do it. Someone he didn’t know? Sure. Family? That was twisted and that in and of itself already made Bill wary of Ford. Leading one of the undead to him and letting it attack him was merely icing on the cake, what else was Ford willing to do for this little experiment? At the end of the day, wasn’t that all Bill was? An experiment?

 

“Let go of me,” with as rough of a yank as he could muster, Bill grabbed at the doorknob of his front door for leverage as he pulled with all of his might, a snarl twisting his lips, “I said I wasn’t going!”

 

“And I said, tough titty,” Dipper rolled his eyes mostly in frustration as the hold he had on Bill’s wrist tightened only just slightly but he refrained from pulling on the smaller just yet, “you gotta go so we’re goin’.”

 

“I ain’t going anywhere with that psychopath you call a great uncle! Now let go!”

 

Once Bill tried to jerk from his hold once again and with more force this time, Dipper sighed with a resigned reluctance to his voice. Everyone in camp, especially him, had realized quickly that Bill was incredibly difficult and when he was set in his mind in regard to a decision then there was little to no changing it. Unfortunately for Bill, the omega didn’t have such a luxury this time. The four of them, Ford included, were going to Portland and Bill had to deal with that. Dipper released his hold on Bill’s wrist but only momentarily, long enough for him to place both of his hands on the smaller’s hips. He’d like to comment on the pretty pink blush that adorned Bill’s cheeks from the touch but he was far too annoyed to enjoy it and instead hoisted the omega up into the air and over his shoulder wordlessly, Pyronica circling them in excitement as her feet pat against the wooden porch in small audible taps.

 

At first all Bill could do was gasp in awed surprise as his entire body went rigid, stiffening against Dipper. Though the confusion faded fast, much to Dipper’s dismay, as the alpha turned to carry him down the stairs and that’s when the wiggling began. He’d already had an arm around Bill because he was sure the omega would put up some sort of fight but he’d not been fully prepared for one so fierce. Legs and arms were kicking and pushing against him as Bill’s entire body writhed and twisted in an attempt to get free. Dipper had to tighten his hold and give a low warning growl just to get the brat to look in his direction, let alone stop moving!

 

“Will you stop?!” the words came out far more harsh than Dipper had intended for them to and the narrowing of his eyes were likely more of a glare but it got Bill to stop moving, at least for the moment. 

 

It didn’t stop the pout. Nor the whine as the gravel crunched under Dipper’s boots before Bill spoke, “Why is it whenever I say **I**  don’t wanna do something you make me do it anyway?”

 

“‘Cuz I’m the adult.”

 

A small scoff left Bill before his knee connected with Dipper’s abdomen in a soft jab, his eyes rolling, “That would have been sexy if you weren’t holding me against my will currently.”

 

“Funny, I thought you’d find it sexy regardless,” Dipper met the comment with a roll of his own eyes, his hold loosening on Bill in the slightest bit but not near enough to allow him to slip free.

 

“Still very much here.”

 

“Unfortunately,” Bill muttered to the sound of Ford’s voice, resting his chin in his hand before cocking his elbow against Dipper’s shoulder. He couldn’t see the beta in the position he was being held in but just hearing Ford’s voice was enough to make his blood boil.

 

A quick jostle and disapproving growl was Dipper’s response to Bill’s lackluster attitude, coming just short of dropping the omega on his ass. If it weren’t for the fact that Dipper was almost positive Bill would take the chance to make a break for it then he would have but until they made it to the Jeep Dipper was resigned to the fact that he had to carry him. Likely even buckle him in like a child. Why did Bill insist on being so impossible? Damn diva. If Ford didn’t lead Dipper to believe the fate of the world hinges on Bill’s safe arrival to the base in Portland then Dipper would gladly proclaim ‘fuck it’ as loud as he could and wash his hand if the deal.

 

As it were, aside from Pyronica, out of the group going Dipper was the only one Bill trusted enough to relax around. Neither knew what to call the other because they weren’t close enough to be considered friends but too close to be considered acquaintances and leaving Bill alone with Ford after what had happened didn’t sit right with Dipper. Damn him and everything he was, what he wasn’t was someone that could abandon someone in their time of need. Even if that other someone was a pampered brat of an omega.

 

“Get in,” once Bill’s feet had met gravel Dipper wasted no time in spinning him around and motioning toward the back passenger side door of the Jeep. The alpha had almost lept for joy when he saw the vehicle ready and waiting for them near the still ruined gates of the camp. It wasn’t that Bill was heavy, Dipper had carried heavier in the form of his usual army gear and Bill was nothing in comparison, but once Dipper *was* pissed he needed silence to get over it and the silence of a drive would do the trick. **If**  Bill stayed silent…

 

A small, obstinate growl left Bill, who in turn had whirled back around on his heels to give the alpha his fiercest of glares, “I’m younger than you but I’m not a damn child.”

 

“Funny,” he scoffed back, hands resting on his hips as his own eyes narrowed down at Bill to meet with his fiery gaze, “you sure as hell act like one. Now get in. Don’t make me command you.”

 

Oh, he would resort to that, wouldn’t he? It wasn’t enough that Bill was being forced to sit through a however long drive with the asshole who had almost gotten him killed on purpose, Dipper was going to use his status against him as well! Another snarl left Bill but this one more hurt, disappointed, and the emotions likely shone through his scent with how strongly he felt them. Dipper didn’t make an outright motion to elude that he’d noticed nor cared but so long as he knew then that was good enough for Bill.

 

“Fuck you, I’m going,” the words were a mere hiss as Bill yanked the door open with far more force than necessary, only sparing a moment to allow Pyronica to jump in before he himself climbed in after her. If there was one thing in the world that he couldn’t stand, it was an alpha pulling status. 

 

He settled on the seat heavily and crossed his arms tightly about his chest, forcing Dipper to have to close the door for him with a soft thud. Even though it was uncomfortable he refused to move and take his backpack off simply out of stubbornness. He didn’t even want to be here, let alone settle comfortably. If he was going to have to endure a ride with Ford then they were going to be just as miserable as he was and he was going to make sure of that.

 

With narrowed eyes, Bill watched as Dipper rounded the Jeep and pulled the driver side door open just as Ford did with the passenger door in front of Bill. The pair were silent, barely even looking at each other, as they both entered the vehicle and closed the doors simultaneously with loud resounding clicks. The smug air about Ford was palpable, almost stifling. If he were an alpha then the stench would be rolling off of him in waves and stinking up the interior of the Jeep. Regardless, it still made Bill angry. Angry that he was here, that he had to deal with this, that he was allowing it to get to him as badly as it was. He was sure his own scent had thickened with far more than anger by now but that was his strongest emotion currently. If he could just have one more swing at Ford, just one, then he’d be the happiest omega on the planet.

 

The engine rolled over and caught Bill’s attention, forcing his eyes to flicker away from boring daggers into the back of Ford’s head and instead settle on glaring at Dipper’s profile. Neither were speaking, to him nor to each other, and Bill wasn’t sure if the silence would get on his nerves more than hearing Ford’s voice would. One way or another, he was bound to get annoyed at something and he was sure the grating silence wasn’t going to help.

 

Against his better judgement, something he seemed prone to doing as of late, he spoke up, barely keeping the malice from his words, “So what’s gonna happen when we get there?”

 

He hadn’t missed the way Dipper’s eyes quickly flicked from the road ahead and toward Ford before going back again but he would be damned if he brought it up.

 

“What do you mean?” Ford spoke first, his eyes trained forward instead of giving Bill the luxury of seeing the confusion on his face by turning around. That was fine, Bill knew how to be petty too.

 

“Oh, you know,” his words held an almost angelic innocence as he leaned forward, blatantly ignoring the warning growl from Dipper as the alpha drove around abandoned cars situated in the middle of the road, “am I gonna be whisked away and dissected on or am I gonna be tested on like a lab rat?”

 

A silence followed those words, Ford clearly trying to think of the proper response to give Bill. Was it so hard to get the truth out of someone now a days? Was everything in some sort of code that Bill wasn’t aware existed? Or did everyone he meet just enjoy lying to him?

 

“Would depend on what they think they should do when we get there,” came the final answer, just as cryptic as Bill thought it were going to be.

 

“Right,” he huffed, falling back into his seat with a growl as his stare was directed to the back of Ford’s head once again, “This sounds like some sort of secret society bullshit. If you’re planning on sacrificing me to Cthulhu or something then, no dice. I’m not a virgin.”

 

Dipper had an immediate reaction in the form of sucking back his own spit and choking on it, forcing him to cough and sputter in the driver’s seat. Ford had remained silent possibly due to the fact that he already knew, as a college student, that Bill likely wasn’t but he also wasn’t expecting it to be blurted out so bluntly. He instead had settled for glancing in Dipper’s direction and reaching out a hand to pat at the young alpha’s shoulder in hopes of giving some form of assistance instead of speaking. Neither reaction were what Bill had assumed would happen but they were enough to have him smirking proudly at himself as he scritched his fingers through the velvet fur on top of Pyronica’s head.

 

“Nothing quite so…” there was a pause as Ford tried to think of a word, the hand he had used to pat Dipper on the shoulder waving around in the air in hopes of stalling for time, “barbaric.”

 

“Oh, so _that’s_ barbaric but letting one of those fuck’s attack me is perfectly normal. Gotcha,” Bill spat. To avoid locking eyes with the disapproving glare he could feel Dipper giving him through the rear view mirror, Bill kept his arms crossed and directed his stare out of the window he was sitting closest to instead.

 

Maybe that was more harsh than he intended for it to be, the words held a bite to them that was meant to cut deep purposefully but it wasn’t as if it weren’t warranted. Ford had brought this on himself and no amount of disapprovement on Dipper’s part would convince Bill to take it easy on the old man. Just because he was old that didn’t mean he was entitled to doing what he wanted. What Ford _was_  entitled to Bill couldn’t do because Dipper kept holding him back likely out of love for a family member but Bill still ended up feeling betrayed.

 

As established through his multiple attempts at befriending the alpha (Bill fondly called it Operation Pillow Talk), Dipper was an alpha of few words. When the alpha did speak they were usually short sentences well thought out and put together simply to keep a conversation going without any real effort from Dipper. His scent barely even changed on a day to day and that pissed Bill off the most! Dipper was a clean slate, having been molded by the military specifically - for what, Bill didn’t know. So he had to get used to reading the alpha’s body language and fast if he were going to keep one step ahead of his instincts.

 

Subtle things would change when Dipper didn’t like the direction a conversation was taking. For instance, currently Dipper was gripping the wheel of his Jeep so hard his knuckles had long since whitened. It was something Dipper tended to do when it was becoming increasingly hard for him to hold his tongue. His shoulders were stiff, radiating displeasure. His mocha colored eyes were trained forward again but were narrowed and distant, like he was thinking hard. Likely thinking of what he was going to say to berate Bill later in private.

 

Dipper hated when people talked bad about his family. He was a protective alpha and Bill discovered a while ago that Ford and he had been close when Dipper was younger. While Dipper wasn’t going to waste the time to turn to him and reprimand him for his behavior in front of Ford, there was bound to be some sort of talk on the horizon at some time.

 

But Bill would be damned if he apologized to Ford.

 

Purely for Dipper’s sake, Bill was going to keep to himself for most of the ride unless provoked. Provoked was a loose term considering the mere thought of Ford angered him to his very core, but he was willing to give it a good old fashioned, honest to God _try_. Being silent wasn’t his forte and when he was it usually meant he was so upset that not even words could describe his feelings. For Ford, Bill knew exactly what he felt for the old beta - malcontent was a nice word but Bill was more fond of the simplistic term of ‘get bent and suck a fat one’. He’d refrain from saying it out loud, however, as unfortunate as that was.

 

The trees whizzed by as Dipper continued to drive, the Jeep climbing in speed as they turned off onto the mostly empty highway. By now, the two up front had taken his silence as a reprieve and began to talk between themselves. Not of anything specific that Bill could tell, orders and who had sanctioned this study being the main subject and he was losing interests quickly. None of it truly concerned him. Bored him even if he were going to be honest. While he was the subject, he wasn’t the study. The study had begun far off ago, before they had thought of him. A bit of blood testing and so forth and finally they had come to the conclusion that maybe Bill’s genes held the key. So while it interested him to know who exactly he’d be meeting, he decided not to pay much attention.

 

Save for the fact that most of it was military talk anyway. Bill had dabbled in the JROTC in high school but after a month he quickly realized that he didn’t have the discipline. That and he apparently had an issue with authority, go figure. While he could recognize a few of the military jargon Dipper and Ford slipped into with ease, he couldn’t remember what everything meant.

 

What he could gather, however, was that most of their personnel had gone MIA quite rapidly after the outbreak. They were short staffed and not even Dipper knew of this.

 

Names were spoken, none that Bill knew, and after each name Ford would confirm them missing and much to Dipper’s surprise at that. Was it that much of a shock? That they would abandon their post during a time like this? Had Bill sucked it up and joined the military, the last thing he would want to be doing right now is working. Many could have left simply to find their families, to protect them and spend time with them before the inevitable finally happened. While Bill could admire anyone who stuck it out and stayed, he could sympathize far more with the ones that left. He’d give anything to find his own family.

 

“But Fiddleford’s still there, right?” Dipper spoke up again, catching Bill’s attention and drawing him away from his staring out the window in obstination.

 

Ford nodded, a small fond huff of laughter coming to his lips, “As much as he doesn’t want to be, yes.”

 

“And Strange?”

 

There Ford had paused in thought, shifting in his seat before clearing his throat and speaking, a hint of trepidation in his voice, “He’d be the last one to leave and you know that…”

 

“I was hoping he wouldn’t be for obvious reasons…”

 

Bill remained quiet as his eyes flickered between the two sitting stiffly in the seats ahead of him. There was a time when Bill could remember Ford mentioning this Fiddleford and the name sounded familiar. There was a sort of fondness when the name was mentioned and Bill always assumed they were fairly close. Bill could venture so far as to say the pair were great friends even. ‘Strange’ wasn’t. It was clear neither Ford nor Dipper were very fond of him only judging by how they spoke of him. Dipper’s reaction alone was enough to clue into the fact that this man wasn't very well liked among his peers. What were these ‘obvious reasons’ Dipper had failed to elaborate on? 

 

A low hum off in the distance brought Bill’s thoughts back to the present. It was subtle, small, but the longer they drove the closer it got. It grew louder and forced Bill to spin in his seat to glance out of the back windshield curiously as the two ahead of him continued their talk. Bill didn’t know what it was but he knew what it sounded like. He was unfortunately very intimate with the sound now. His eyes scanned the horizon they drove away from, keeping alert to any sort of shift, anything new that might materialize over the crest of the road.

 

Motorcycles, at one point, meant that an attractive alpha was in the bar Bill was about to enter. It meant he could flirt to his heart’s content and drink himself silly on as many free drinks the alpha could buy him. Now, hearing a group of motorcycles in the distance with the heavy stench of alpha was bad news. He was a lone omega, or had been for the better half of five years. Even with Dipper here, Bill could feel his heart skip a handful of beats at the thought of who could be riding those bikes. He hated admitting he was scared but when he was it was obvious.

 

“Hey, uhh… Pinetree?”

 

A small exasperated sigh left the alpha from the driver’s seat but he didn’t turn around to give Bill the time of day as he answered with little to no enthusiasm, “What, Bill…?”

 

“I think we’re about to have company,”

 

“Company-“ the word died on his tongue as his ears finally picked up on the sound, his brows furrowing in deep thought. It wasn’t exactly loud but it was definitely getting louder. Judging by the ferocity of the noise, how deeply it cut through the outside air around them, it was more than one. Even with it muffled by the exterior of the Jeep, Dipper could almost feel the vibration through the steering wheel. Were they following them? How long had they been?

 

His eyes flickered quickly to the rear view mirror once more with the sole intention of giving the road a quick sweep but his sights landed on Bill first. The omega had his back to him as he himself studied the road but even without his scent his body language was telling. Back ramrod straight, muscles tensed, hand clamped around the back of the seat so tight his knuckles were discolored a softly pink as he forced himself to stay in position. He was scared. The scent was slight, Dipper noted as he sniffed at the air around them, but sour and far more obvious than Bill would have liked or was comfortable with. He didn’t like it either, it didn’t suit Bill.

 

“Gotta be those same bikers from before,” he muttered, forcing Dipper to look away and toward the road once more, “They’re the only ones I know of that stuck around Gravity Falls.”

 

The sound had grown louder and it was unmistakable now as to what exactly it was. Engines roared to life behind them as they breezed down the pavement, closing in on their current position. Whether they were after them or not was unknown but forcing them to pull over to be stolen from was something he didn’t want to risk. Dipper could speed up but his Jeep was far bigger than any motorcycle and he’d run the risk of crashing into any stationary vehicle left abandoned, injuring all four of them in the process. Then they’d still end up raided as well as left for dead. 

 

Pyronica was their trump card. No one knew they had a dog in the Jeep and she was well trained. But most anyone now a days didn’t care to shoot an animal, even if they were a pet. She could handle her own just as Bill could but given the sheer number that it _sounded_  like was in the pack it was hard to tell how a fight between them could turn out. They would be heavily armed. Dipper, Bill, and Ford had one gun each and aside from the two hunting knives Dipper and Bill carried with them that was the extent of their arsenal. 

 

“Pinetree…”

 

Dipper’s eyes flickered toward the rear view mirror in time to spy the first three bikers rounding the bend and he recognized the one in the lead immediately. Ghost Eyes. Gideon’s crew. It stood to say that they weren’t Robin Hood’s band of Merry Men. They were mean, took what they wanted or thought they were owed. They didn’t care for anyone that wasn’t part of their pack and if you didn’t join them then you were dead.

 

“Bill, turn around and buckle up,” the words were tight and rough with a clear urgency to them but not quite yet a demand. Thankfully Bill had listened without protest, turning in his seat and removing his backpack to wrap the seat belt around himself.

 

Ford had already done the same but his hand was reaching to his right side on instinct to check for his gun as he watched more pour from the bend to join the first three from his side view mirror, “He’s picked up a few.”

 

“Yeah,” Dipper growler as he added pressure to the gas pedal and watched as the gauge climbed speed before his eyes darted back to the road, “suppose he had to after Bill killed half of ‘em.”

 

“It’s going to take more than us if they pull us over. You know that, right?” Ford’s own eyes locked with Dipper’s profile as he voiced his worries aloud, fingers wrapping around the butt of his gun in anticipation to pull it from its holster.

 

The alpha gave a curt nod in response as he swerved between two rusted cars sat wasting away in the middle of the road with missing tires and opened doors before hissing through clenched teeth, “Unfortunately.”

 

It didn’t take another glance in the rear view for Dipper to realize that they were already hot on their tail, likely even riding the Jeep’s bumper by a scant inch if not less. So long as he remained calm and kept his eyes on the road then they'd be fine…

 

A buzz caught his attention as the Jeep lurched forward and jostled the four of them suddenly. Hoots and hollers, catcalls and whistles, were shouted at them from behind as the tap was taken as a victory, a typical scare tactic. They were trying to force them forward. Was there a roadblock across the road somewhere? Was Gideon waiting up ahead for them? There was no way any of them knew this Jeep was Dipper’s and even if they did they wouldn’t know Dipper was driving it. Were they after something specific?

 

With a low snarl of frustration, Dipper slammed on the breaks and allowed the first three riders in the line the rear end his Jeep with a loud and resounding thud, knocking them from their bikes in a pile to the highway below. There was probably a motorcycle sized dent in the back of his Jeep now but that was the least of his worries. The others behind them skidded their bikes across the pavement to a stop, leaving tire marks in their wake. A few even began jumping from their bikes in an attempt to make a run for the now stationary Jeep. Their boots kicked up gravel as they thundered against the cement in unison sounding every bit like a herd of bison fleeing from hungry predators. A hand wrapped around the handle of Bill’s door and made to pull, opening it a mere centimeter as Pyronica leapt to her feet with a fierce and protective growl coming to her lips.

 

The Jeep lurched forward once more as Dipper applied pressure to the gas pedal again, forcing the alpha grabbing hold of Bill’s door to stumble and face plant the pavement as his tires screeched. They barreled down the highway as the gauge climbed well above seventy and Dipper tried his best to ignore the aching feeling in his gut that told him to _slow down_. Something wasn’t right. They were pushing them to speed up and he knew that but staying put wasn’t an option either, not with Bill and Ford in the Jeep with him.

 

Gideon couldn’t be involved in this, not yet. The little pissant didn’t do his own dirty work. If he did then it would surprise the hell out of Dipper. Something else had to be going on…

 

“That was actually kinda hot…”

 

Bill’s voice snapped him from his thoughts and he glanced into the rear view mirror to spy the blonde staring back at him from his seat. A bashful laugh escaped his lips as they locked eyes briefly, Dipper huffing a small, “Yeah?”

 

“Hell yeah,” he gave his own laugh, craning his neck to peek behind them through the back windshield before spinning around again to face forward, “So hot I’d even suck- Pinetree!”

 

The smile that had been gracing Bill’s features disappeared only to be replaced by a worriedly frantic stare as Ford took his hand to grab at the wheel of the Jeep. Dipper’s eyes flickered from the rear view mirror to the road only to widen as well as he was met with a horde far larger than the one that had overrun their camp just a couple nights previous. They took up the length of the road from one side to the other, stumbling and ambling as they bumped into each other only to turn around and smash into the person behind them as well. The brakes we slammed to the floorboard as the wheel was yanked to the right, forcing the Jeep to veer and skid. As the wheels lost traction, stuttering and kicking gravel and loose trash, the back tire caught on a wire and kicked upwards into the air.

 

With the back of the Jeep now airborne, it didn’t take much for the vehicle to become top heavy and barrel over. It rolled once, twice, three times before sliding across the pavement with a sickening sound. The chaos and noise had garnered interest as the horde stumbled their way forward and toward the Jeep in a slow moving gait. None of the occupants had left.

 

That meant a free meal if they could break the glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Furthermore, I now have a Tumblr!
> 
> I mean, I had always had a Tumblr but I sorta just made it and then left it... But now I'm using it! So, if any of you guys are interested in watching me lose my sanity as I write, head on over there and follow omegainthesheets. I'll post updates about Alone and other fics that I'm currently writing, maybe even a few oneshots here and there, who knows! It's gonna be crazy!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be a tad bit short but only because I have a thing going on soon! More details below if you’re interested!

“ _Bill!_ ”

Ringing. Muffled and persistent. It was grating and annoying. Something wet, maybe? It dribbled down from his hairline in a path to his jaw leaving an annoying tickling sensation in its wake. He was definitely upside down. Or not, he wasn’t sure now that he was truly thinking about it actually. A pained groan escaped his parted lips and suddenly his nostrils were filled with the metallic scent of blood. Voices and snarls could be heard from far off, as if they were coming to him through water or maybe as if he were sitting at the bottom of a very large and enclosed barrel and they were yelling at him from the outside. His ears were definitely ringing now that he was trying to focus on the words and he could feel that wet _something_  drip down his jaw and likely leave a few droplets onto the fabric of his shirt. Better not have been his leather jacket. So not upside down, definitely not upside down.

“ _Bill, get up!_ ”

It was so damn hard to focus on the voice but it was at least closer to him now. That helped a little bit. Was that gun shots? Bill forced his eyes open only to immediately regret it and squeeze them shut, the sunlight causing the mild headache brewing in between his eyes to glare to life and catch fire. It ignited like a piece of parchment, quick and unforgiving and he had to fight back the urge to vomit. His vision swam, spiraling out of control, forcing a terrible case of vertigo. All of the sounds, the feelings, everything blended into one horrible cacophony of misery and Bill fumbled with his seatbelt in a vain attempt at getting free. Pyronica whimpered beside him, reluctant to leave him but Bill almost wished she would. He couldn’t stand the noise…

The thought came to him suddenly that he didn’t have to deal with this. No one could make him. He had the power to shut it all off if he wanted to. All the noise, the sounds, the annoyances. They could disappear for a moment, if *only* for a moment. Unwrapping from the seatbelt buckle, Bill lifted his left hand toward his ear, already sighing in anticipation of the sheer relief of **silence**.

“Bill!”

Sounds rushed back to him all at once as the ringing suddenly came to a stop and his eyes flew open quickly. With his left hand poised and hovering over his hearing aid in an attempt at turning the damned thing off, he stared back at Dipper as the alpha leaned in from the caved in sunroof of the Jeep. So he wasn’t quite upside down but the vehicle was at the least turned on its side. Would explain the odd angle he couldn’t quite wrap his head around earlier. No wonder he’d been so disoriented. Or was that the head trauma talking?

“Don’t turn that shit off,” Dipper scowled as his eyebrows furrowed, scent thick with clear distress and gun cocked in his hand as his eyes narrowed at Bill, “Hurry up and unbuckle. Anything broken?”

Another groan escaped him before he was rolling his eyes and allowed his head to hang pathetically in soft defeat. What a gentleman, whatever would Bill do if he had been stuck with an asshole? Bill’s hand dropped from his ear quite slowly, still tempted to turn his hearing aid off regardless of the warning tone laced in Dipper’s voice as he grabbed for the seat buckle once more and fiddled with it as he hissed out his response of, “Fuck off, Pinetree… I ain’t stood up yet, how am I supposed to know…?”

“Well, hurry up.”

“Wha-“ Bill’s eyes met with Dipper’s own then, narrowing as well in barely contained anger, “I’ve half a mind to kick you in the nads, Pinetree.”

“Can’t do that if you’re still attached to your fucking seat, now can you?”

His seat belt gave a click as it disengaged and Bill fell against the door with a thud and a silent groan. The strap fell around his shoulder and midsection before he sat up and allowed it to be pulled in by the mechanism contained inside the seat itself as he stood on shaky feet. Broken glass and dented metal crunched under his boots as Pyronica circled his feet in attempts to stay out of his way. The little pit bull kept her eyes on him protectively as he stumbled toward the alpha with a disdainful glare and he finally spoke up lowly, “Look here-“

“No, you look here,” Dipper cut him off swiftly, obvious attitude hanging from his every word, before moving aside an inch to allow Pyronica to jump through the shattered sunroof first and extending a hand out toward Bill to assist the omega out of the Jeep with haste, “we’re surrounded by undead, we have no form of transportation, all three of us are injured, and you’re trying your damnedest to still be pissed over going to Portland. We don’t have time for this.”

“Surrounded…?” the word came out far more silent and meek than Bill had wanted it to as he took Dipper’s offered hand and climbed out but as his boots met gravel instead of broken glass and bent metal, Bill’s eyes widened at the sight before laid out him.

The entire stretch of road ahead of them was blanketed in undead. For as far as he could see, they bobbed and weaved between themselves in an effort to enclose on them, to gain less distance, as Ford wasted bullet after bullet. Between the pair of them they had created a decent sized wall of dead but that would only trip so many and it wasn’t as if they didn’t have the motor skill to get back up, it just took them longer to do so. Watching them fight for dominance, fight for the front lines, was something Bill likened to watching waves crash against each other at a beach. Except these waves were icky black and splotched with bloody clothing and decaying skin. Dead eyes bore holes into him as they raked down his body as if sizing a slab of beef. It was an unnerving sight and the sounds were far worse than he could explain in words. An amalgamation of snarls, groans, and gunshots. Scents of decay, old fear, and blood. Bill hated it.

“How long have we been here?” his hand dropped from Dipper’s as he took a step backwards, away, and turned to face the opposite end of the Jeep, heading for the opened trunk to grab his gun. Aside from Pyronica, the last thing he’d leave behind would be his rifle.

With a scoff, which Bill could tell had meant to be a laugh at first, Dipper reached into the Jeep once more to drag Bill’s bookbag out from the back seat, tossing it to the omega as he emerged from the trunk with said rifle, “Long enough. We gotta move before they round the other side of the Jeep.”

“Or before it blows up. Which would also be our luck,” the right strap of his bag was situated on his shoulder hastily once it was back in his possession before Bill was checking what ammo he had in his rifle and cocking it, pulling the bolt towards him to check inside the barrel before releasing it, “Lead the way and I’ll follow.”

Ford’s name was called, loudly, and Bill took that moment to situated the other strap of his bag and secure it before they had to begin running. Every undead within earshot had taken notice even if it hadn’t mattered. The alpha had been yelling for a good moment now just to wake Bill up, and both Dipper and Ford had been shooting their guns to keep the horde at bay. Noises were their alert system because they couldn’t always rely on their sight. How their optic nerves could suffer but their hearing still be as optimal as it was while Bill’s wasn’t was a sore subject but he didn’t dwell on it often and now definitely wasn’t the time.

Their shoes beat across the pavement loudly as Ford met with them at the side of the Jeep. Pyronica led the pack, easily slipping under the barricade and darting into the trees and brush as the three of them had to slow down long enough to climb over the rusted metal. It groaned underneath their weight as they rushed over it one by one and ran into the forest that lay waiting for them just on the other side. It was darker here as the sun rose higher above them to settle over the branches. Leaves shaded them as the small group zipped in between trees and fallen logs. Their boots sunk into mud and kicked up leaves as Pyronica led the charge, bounding over obstacles in her path flawlessly.

Ford easily took the lead, chasing after the pit bull that was sprinting ahead of them as his pistol was gripped tightly in his hands. Bill was faster than Ford but hung back purposefully, instinct calling for him to stay as close to Dipper as he could. There was safety in numbers and if Dipper somehow tripped or fell? Who else would help him if Ford and Pyronica were miles ahead? Being the alpha that he was, Dipper had elected himself to watch their group from the back, to keep his eye on everyone better. That also meant the horde was just barely nipping at his heels.

While they weren’t as fast as them, they weren’t slow either. As a group, they could overpower anything in their wake and the waterlogged trees and dead bark of the forest was no match for the sheer size that came pounding through the forest behind them. Wood cracked and snapped in half as trees fell to the ground under their combined weight while they pushed their way through any and all obstacles. They climbed over each other, clawed and tore through leaves, reaching for the straps of Dipper’s bag that were just out of arm’s reach. Some would fall, the few that would stumble as they made a grab for Dipper, but for the ones that fell another would trample them and take their place. It was an endless sea of undead, rolling like waves as they crashed against bark and moss.

“Stop!”

Bill skidded in the mud on his attempt at a sudden halt as Dipper crashed into his back, forcing the pair to collide into Ford. The older of the three stumbled forward then, arms jutting out and windmilling in the air to catch his balance as he almost tumbled down the straight drop he and Pyronica had paused in front of. Rocks crumbled under his boot as they were sent careening into the slight drop below them, thunking off the side with an earthy sound before they hit the grass at the bottom with a dull thud and disappearing from view. The four watched on in silence, the cacophony of growls behind them ever growing louder the longer they waited. If they did nothing, sat here and simply stared into the trees of the ravine, they were dead. But who was to say climbing down was any better? Any number of things could be awaiting them under the leafy canopy and they just couldn’t see it.

“Should we find another way down?” Dipper was the first to talk as he looked behind him, the sea of undead encroaching on their position quickly. Cautious by nature he, for one, didn’t want to risk it.

A sigh was Ford’s first answer as he peered into the small ravine in hopes of seeing something but coming up fruitless as the greenery remained forever in the way. From where they were standing he couldn’t see a way to climb down nor could he see a way to cross over. Maybe if they just slid? “No, there’s no time. Bill will have to go first. Then Pyronica, you, and me”

“Wait, to do what? You’re not actually suggesting going down there are you?” thrusting his hand outward toward the six foot gap they were currently staring at dumbfounded, Bill glared up at Ford, “What if we get down there and there’s no way out? What if we get down there and those things come falling on top of us?”

“It’s a risk we have to take!” the beta growled back lowly in challenge, meeting the fierce glare with one of his own as he swiped his own hand in the general direction of the gap that sat ominously in front of them, “This is our only option, Bill!”

“Our only option hell! That’s a death trap and you know it!”

“We don’t have time for this! The longer we sit here, the less of a chance we have!”

“We go down there and we’ll die!”

“Dammit, Bill, not everything I do will get us killed!”

“Yeah, sure, like letting that undead into Soos’ garage to attack me wouldn’t have killed me!”

“I needed to be positive that you were immune! I wasn’t going to let you die!”

“Well, congratu-fucking-lations, Sixer!! Ya found out!!”

The ground shifted underneath them suddenly and stole whatever words Ford had opened his mouth to say in retaliation and instead replaced them with a startled intake of air. Dipper’s own attention was pulled away from the horde behind them as he whirled around at the sudden gasp that left Bill, Pyronica’s surprised yelp startling all three of them into action regardless of the two beside her about to befall the same fate. Rock fell and rolled down the sheetrock wall as dirt flew out from below them in a cascade of brown. The ledge broke before crumbling along with it and the pair, Pyronica included, were sent into free fall before they could make a mad dash for secure land. Bill’s breath caught in his throat, the scream he attempted to let out stuck in his windpipe as shock rendered his every fiber useless. He hadn’t even wanted to climb down into the stupid hole to begin with and now fate was deciding it for him!

His backpack was tugged hard enough to damn near choke him as his rear end met the ground roughly. Out of his peripheral he managed to spy Dipper’s left hand reaching forward to grab for Ford as well, their fingers grazing before the beta spun mid air in a split second decision to wrap his arms around Pyronica and shield her from the fall.

“No…!” Bill scrambled to the edge swiftly, eyes scanning the bottom of the ravine as best he could through the dark green foliage of leaves and moss. Pyronica was the last of his family, she was all he had left of his life from before. Everything else had been ripped away or pulled out from under him. If he lost her now, lost her to something as simple and as stupid as a fall like this then he’d never forgive himself. Tears quickly welled up in his eyes at the thought and he blinked them away to clear his vision. Ford would have likely died in the fall before she would. Right? He would have cushioned it. It was possible that the forest floor below was softened by mud and moss, there could have even been a river! There was a reason this ravine was corroded into the rock! Maybe both survived and Ford would bring her back to him!

Another yank of his backpack had him being lifted upwards into the air abruptly and his feet met grass with an inaudible sound. Dipper grabbed his shoulders and squeezed, their eyes locking as Dipper tried to ground him in the moment. The alpha spoke but Bill couldn’t process the words, all he could hear was the sound of his own blood rushing through his veins as adrenaline and fear overtook him. His eyes darted back to the cliff’s edge, back to where the broken ledge was. Pyronica has been his everything for years and he lost her in a matter of seconds. Mere seconds that he was too busy arguing with Ford over something petty. They had to climb down there and find her. Bill couldn’t leave her there. What if she was hurt and couldn’t move?

Just as his right foot had taken the first step toward the ledge, and ultimately toward Pyronica, he was captured by the hip and whirled around to face Dipper again. Bill couldn’t focus on the words he knew were coming out of Dipper’s mouth, his own breathing was too loud and too harsh. Anxiety gripped at his heart tightly and squeezed making it harder and harder to catch his own breath. They needed to go after them! Wasn’t Dipper worried about his great uncle? Even in the slightest?

“Bill, listen to me!”

Sounds rushed back in a vacuum of roars and Bill had to focus hard to concentrate on every syllable being uttered by the alpha in front of him. The hands on his sides squeezed as reassuringly as they could though they shook with as much adrenaline as Bill felt coursing through his own veins.

“We need to go, we don’t have time to look for them,” the words were calm and soft, Dipper’s eyes trained on Bill’s own as they pleaded for the other to listen, “We have over a thousand undead right beside us. We gotta move. I’m sorry.”

Gotta move.

Even as Dipper’s hands left his sides and the fingers of his right intertwined with one of his own, those two words echoed in his mind. Their feet beat against the rocky edge of the cliff, Dipper dragging Bill along as he allowed the alpha to lead him forward in whatever direction they needed to go for escape. By now it didn’t matter so long as they got away. It couldn’t be helped because the entire cliff was surrounded.

Gotta move.

His thoughts hyper fixated on those words alone as Dipper barreled through brush and pulled him along with him. Leaves and dirt kicked up behind them as they ran, darting through even more trees now than when they had come in. The sun shone high above them now, likely close to setting soon as the blue of the sky grew just a tinge bit darker. That meant things were about to get infinitely more dangerous.

Gotta move.

They were abandoning Pyronica. **He**  was abandoning Pyronica. If she was hurt and couldn’t track his scent then he’d never see her again. He was blindly following Dipper and leaving her behind all because his instincts had imprinted on this lone alpha. All because his instincts claimed this alpha could be trusted. Because instinct claimed this alpha as his that made Dipper more important than Pyronica.

“Dipper-“

He’d tried to yank his hand free but Dipper tightened his hold. A warning growl rumbled in the back of the brunette’s throat and he shot the blonde a glare over his shoulder, “Don’t.”

“But-“

“I said,” he paused just long enough to step through the underbrush and over the broken rusty guard rail before grabbing Bill under the arms and picking him up much like a child to lift him over the railing and set him in front of himself, “Don’t. We can’t afford to stick around there, do you understand?”

What Bill understood was that they were no longer being chased. And that could very likely mean that entire horde had fallen right on top of his dog. Pyronica could be undead _food_  right now and he was standing here doing absolutely nothing about it. His dog was a sitting duck. Why would the horde chase after food that was running away when they had two perfectly trapped idiots at the bottom of a ravine? The least he could have done was shot a few! The least he could have done was bide them some time! Ford knew how to survive, he had to!

Before he could think to stop himself, Bill’s hands shot out and shoved Dipper hard in the chest, forcing the alpha back a handful of steps in surprise as his mocha colored eyes blew wide. Bill advanced with a snarled, shoving Dipper again but the alpha was prepared this time and only lost footing once, using his left to balance himself.

“What-“

“You’re a fucking jerk!” the tears that Bill had attempted to stave since Pyronica plummeted began to fell as his vision clouded and Bill raised his hands to shove at Dipper again, “What fucking right do you have to tell me what I can and can’t fucking do?!”

Dipper captured both of Bill’s wrists swiftly, holding them to his chest as the omega wiggling and yanked in an attempt to get away, “Bill, stop.”

“She’s my fucking dog!” Bill’s voice only raised as he yelled back at the alpha, breaking just slightly as emotion dripped from every word, “You can’t stop me from going back for her!”

“You aren’t thinking straight, will you calm down a minute?!” Dipper’s own voice raised as he hovered over the other, his hold on Bill’s wrists tightening in order to keep him still. Or to at least avoid being shoved again, it actually hurt.

Bill snarled again, venomously, as his eyes narrowed into slits. If looks could kill then Dipper wouldn’t be standing right now, “Let go of me!”

When he opened his mouth to harshly whisper for the other to quiet the hell down, a honey sweet scent caught his attention. Dipper paused, stilling almost trance-like as he eyed Bill with knitted brow. The situation was high strung but Bill’s emotions had been easily frazzled over the last two days. Bill was easily irate, down right pissy. There were times Dipper could have sworn the other was willing to fight someone over a loaf of bread in the mess hall even. Was this…?

“Pre-heat…”

“What?” that had been enough to grab Bill’s attention, yanking his teary eyed gaze upwards to stare into Dipper’s own confused one.

“Shit!” the word was hissed under his breath once he’d released Bill’s wrists and he began to pace quickly in front of the omega. Fingers found their way into his hair, forcing his cap from his head as it fell to the pavement of the highway below with a soft thud, “This is bad. This is really bad.”

Bill’s eyes flickered from Dipper to his hat and back in silence, mind a now calm blank as he allowed the revelation to sink in. He hadn’t been keeping up with his heats if he were going to be quite honest. Things were far more hectic now and suppressants were the last thing on his mind when starving to death was a hard first. Heats had become an afterthought. Bill had gotten too comfortable at the Mystery Shack. He’d had protection for his last few heats and hadn’t had to worry about trouble so he stopped keeping count. It was easier to let it come to him instead of stressing about it.

“Okay, shelter, first off,” as Dipper began trudging in the general direction of a nearby town complete with run down gas station he grabbed at Bill’s arm and yanked him along, the hold tight, “I don’t know what we’re gonna do once it hits…”

“Fuck…? I mean,” Bill shrugged, wincing only minutely at the pressure around his arm. At least it wasn’t the one with the bite, he could be thankful for that.

A scoff sounded in the back of Dipper’s throat and Bill could tell that outwardly Dipper has wanted to say ‘no’ but his body language wasn’t so sure of the answer. In fact, his body language said differently. The gait was protective, the hold unrelenting as it screamed ‘mine’, Dipper’s eyes scanned the surrounding area for more than just undead. Maybe he was unsure of their relationship and that was fine because so was Bill but a heat was a heat. Who said there needed to be feelings attached?

“If you don’t want to then say it.”

“What?” Dipper faltered in his step as he spun his head around so quick he damn near broke his neck. Luckily he had been able to suppress the wince because the situation was embarrassing enough.

With a roll of his eyes, Bill waved a rather dismissive hand through the air, “Just say you don’t want to fuck me.”

A long and pregnant silence dragged on between them as Dipper stared blankly at Bill. At first it was hard to tell if the other were angry with him simply for the fact that the alpha was always so damn good at hiding his scent. But then Bill noticed the creeping blush forming. The normally pale skin of Dipper’s face had colored a pretty dark red and Bill couldn’t help but to admire it. It had even colored his ears, how cute!

“It’s not that…”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Pinetree-“

“You haven’t consented,” the hand around Bill’s arm flexed but loosened just the slightest if only a little and Dipper averted his eyes almost shyly, “During a heat that’s not you saying ‘yes’. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

“Oh,” was all Bill could think to say back. Any other alpha would have jumped at the chance and he knew that. Any *lesser* alpha would have ‘whisked’ him away by now with promises of a good time. But not Dipper. Shock had rendered him speechless on more than one occasion today. And he still felt a pull toward Pyronica, something inside of him nagging to run back into that forest and track her down. But if his heat hit while he was outside…

“I consent,” he blurted suddenly and smiled wide in smug triumph as Dipper choked on a wad of spit he’d sucked back. He’d might as well allow the alpha his fun. Their instincts had been pining for each other, they had been pining for each other. And once it was over he was finding his damn dog, with or without Dipper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recently a friend of mine and I have started an ask blog over on Tumblr! It’s a shared joint ask for Dib from Invader Zim and Dipper!
> 
> Starting tomorrow, our Halloween event will consist of Bill taking over the entire blog and keeping it on lockdown! Come by and ask him some things! Just search up ‘ask-mysteryboys’!


End file.
